


Relax

by Dextrousleftie



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Anal Sex, Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Rimming, Romance, Stress Relief, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextrousleftie/pseuds/Dextrousleftie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakano has finally stressed himself out so much that he's getting ill. K intends to make him relax, and like it. But just how will K do that? And will he find out about the secret crush on him that Sakano has?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a typical morning at the NG studio. Hiro was sitting patiently at the table in the break room, eating a bagel and talking to Suguru, who was doing his best to ignore the anxious man bouncing off the walls not far away. Sakano was in full whirlwind mode, his loud wails making the keyboardist wince. K was leaning against the far wall, looking bored and polishing his Desert Eagle in a significant sort of way. Shuichi was an hour late for their recording session, and the American was strongly considering using the gun to ventilate a certain pink-haired singer when(or if) he actually arrived.

The tall blonde glanced in irritation at Sakano’s imitation of a banshee. The producer was nice guy, but these fits of anxiety of his could get on even a saint’s nerves, and K had definitely never been a saint. He shook his head. If Sakano didn’t start calming down and destressing, he’d have a fatal heart attack before he was thirty. “What will I tell Tohma-san?!” screeched Sakano, as though he were personally responsible somehow for the singer’s absence. 

Hiro sighed as he took another bite of his bagel. Sakano’s desperate calls to Yuki and Shuichi’s apartment earlier had gotten him nowhere, as the answering machine had picked up every time while the producer became more and more frantic. He’d actually managed to pull out several tufts of his hair before K had grabbed his hand and stopped him. Hiro figured that Shuichi would show up in his own sweet time, with some weird excuse for his lateness to relate. The guitarist knew his friend. If something had been very wrong, either Yuki or Shuichi would have called by now. He saw Suguru rubbing his forehead, obviously feeling the first twinges of a Sakano-shriek induced migraine.

K was just considering hitting Sakano on the back of the head with his gun to shut him up, when the producer came to a sudden halt. His hand clutched at his chest and he’d gone deathly pale. K straightened up from the wall as Sakano wavered, then the producer's eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out stone cold. K moved with a speed that belied his size and grabbed him before he hit the floor.

“Sakano-san!” Hiro cried, jumping to his feet. “What’s wrong with him, K-san?”

K lowered the producer’s limp form to the carpet gently. “I don’t know,” he replied grimly, loosening Sakano’s tie. “Go and call an ambulance, Hiro.” The guitarist darted away to comply, while Suguru rose to his feet and came around the table to look down worriedly at Sakano's slack face. While he didn’t much like the hyper producer, the keyboardist still didn’t want anything to happen to him.

K peeled back one of Sakano’s eyelids. The pupil was fixed and dilated. He laid his head on Sakano’s chest next, listening to his heartbeat. It was rapid and rather thready, but he couldn’t hear any arrhythmia. The producer didn’t appear to be having a heart attack. That was good – minutes could count between a bad heart attack and a fatal one. The blonde lifted his head and gently slapped Sakano’s cheek. "Sakano?” he said, but although the producer’s eyelids fluttered a little, he didn’t come to.

Hiro came running back into the room. “I called an ambulance,” he said anxiously, "How is he?”

“Not dying,” K said reassuringly. “I think he’s just out cold.” Hiro looked relieved, and even Suguru drew in a slight breath and relaxed.

Into this little tableau streaked the reason for the producer's attack. “La-Li-Ho!” called a loud, cheerful voice as Shuichi burst through the door. "Sorry I’m late…”

K winced. Of all the times the idiot singer could have chosen to show up! He braced himself for what was coming next, and winced when Shuichi caught sight of Sakano’s prone form. His big violet eyes widened even more as he screamed “Sakano-san! What’s wrong with him! He’s not dead, is he?!” his yells were so loud that they could have woken Sakano from the dead if he’d actually been in that state. 

“Shuichi!” Hiro said forcefully, going over to grab his friend by the arm. “Sakano-san collapsed. I’ve called an ambulance, they should be here any minute. I’m sure that he’ll be fine.” He used the gentle but firm tone that always seemed to work best on Shuichi, and the little singer calmed down somewhat.

“W-What’s wrong with him?” he whispered, still staring anxiously down at the still form of their producer. 

Hiro shook his head. “We don’t know. He just passed out all of a sudden. He was right in the middle of one of his fits, and…” the guitarist stopped talking abruptly, but it was too late. Shuichi’s face crumpled and tears began to well in his huge eyes.

“He was freaking out because of me,” he said in horror. “Because I was late. This is my fault! I did this to him!” he sobbed, tears streaming down his face.

K rolled his eyes. Trust the idiot singer to take personal blame for Sakano’s anxious personality and lack of self-esteem. Shuichi had been late almost every day for months, and yet he assumed that he somehow must have brought this on. As if Sakano didn’t freak out over just about everything anyway. He considered putting his gun to Shuichi’s head and threatening to shoot the singer if he didn’t shut up, but the boy was traumatized enough as it was already. K left comforting Shuichi in Hiro’s capable hands, but he was very glad when the paramedics arrived a few minutes later and carted Sakano away to the hospital. He didn’t think that he could have stood much more of Shuichi’s hysterics.

 

 

K walked into Tohma’s office that afternoon without knocking. The head of NG wasn’t surprised by this, since the blonde American seldom showed any manners at all. He looked up from the papers he was reading when K strolled throughhis door, and sighed in a long-suffering way. The blonde executive sensed trouble coming on, and he set down the document he’d been reading while he prepared himself for the worst. K threw himself down in one of the chairs in front of Tohma’s desk and stretched out his long legs, eyeing Tohma out of narrowed blue-purple eyes.

“I trust you heard about what happened this morning in the studio?” he said without preamble.

Tohma nodded. He knew about everything that went on in his building, even the things that people thought no one knew about. He had an elaborate array of hidden cameras and listening devices planted everywhere. “How is Sakano-san?” he asked quietly.

“Apparently he passed out from stress during an anxiety attack. They let him out of the hospital about an hour ago, after they ran some tests. There doesn’t appear to be too much wrong with him, although his doctor says that he’s well on his way to having high blood pressure. But the doc did warn me that if Sakano continues to show this high level of anxiety and stress, he’ll end up having a massive coronary or a stroke. The doctor wants him to take anti-anxiety medication, but he also said that Sakano's got to destress somehow.”

Tohma rubbed a finger down the side of his face thoughtfully. “I don’t see how he’ll be able to do that,” he replied in his high, young-sounding voice. “Sakano-san’s more nervous than some poodles I’ve seen.”

K nodded. “That’s what I thought,” the American replied. “If he keeps on with his normal routine, I just don’t think that there’s any way that he’ll be able to relax.”

Tohma eyed him warily. “Why do I get the feeling that this is leading up to something?”

“Because it is,” K looked at Tohma seriously from over the tops of his sunglasses. “You might not like Sakano personally, Tohma, but he’s a damn good producer. We can’t afford to lose him, and we will if he continues on like this. So I’ve got a proposal for you.”

Tohma’s blue eyes narrowed. The implied insult aside, K had a point. Sakano was an excellent producer, and Bad Luck’s career was thriving partially because of his skill. “All right,” he said “Although I’m probably not going to like it, tell me what it is you propose to do.”

“I’m going to take Sakano on vacation,” K said calmly.

Tohma’s eyebrows shot up. “You? Why? And how, for that matter, since I don’t think that Sakano-san’s ever taken a vacation in his life?”

“That’s part of his problem,” K replied shortly. “And I intend to take him on a vacation whether he’s willing to go or not. I’ll just have to kidnap him and take him away somewhere where he can rest.”

Tohma rolled his eyes. He knew that K was perfectly serious, and that Bad Luck's manager would do just what he said he would. "Where will you take him?”

K shook his head. “I don’t intend to tell anybody that...especially you, Tohma. You wouldn’t mean to, but if something came up that required one or both of us, you’d call and bug Sakano to come back. And he’d be on the first plane back here, because he practically worships the ground you walk on. If he’s to actually get a real vacation without all the stresses of the job interfering, then the location of our destination will remain a closely guarded secret.”

Tohma knew that pushing K over this would accomplish nothing except to irritate the American. The last time he’d done that, he’d had to have his office walls re-spackled because of the bullet holes in them. Trying to argue him out of this plan altogether was also a waste of time...And he supposed that K did have a point, too – he might just call them up if he needed something bad enough. They were Bad Luck’s manager and producer, after all. Having them both incommunicado would be a severe trial for him. Especially since K was one of the few people who could keep a leash on Shuichi.

“Very well," he said, although the undertones in his light voice said how unhappy he was with K’s plan. “When will you leave?”

“In a couple of days. That’ll give the band time to wrap up their current recording session, so that all you’ll have to deal with are the interviews, public appearances, that sort of thing. I know that you can handle all of that personally, Tohma. You’re a genius when it comes to publicity.”

The keyboardist of Nittle Grasper might have mistaken that for a compliment...if he’d been a less intelligent man. He knew that K didn’t much like him, any more than he liked K. The antagonism between the two of them was deep and strong. They eyed each other now like two tigers circling the same carcass. “Have a good time,” Tohma said with a faint baring of his teeth.

K snorted, thinking about spending several weeks with Sakano. “I’m pretty sure that that won’t be possible,” he remarked, getting to his feet.

Tohma looked mildly satisfied as he envisioned the torture that K would be subjecting himself to. The American read his expression accurately, and his eyes narrowed and glinted behind his shades with a cold, hard light that would have made a lesser man crawl under his desk and whimper with fear. “I’ll be sure to bring you back a souvenir,” he said to Tohma, and visions of poisonous scorpions in his bed or a cobra under his desk danced in his head as K exited the room as abruptly as he’d entered it.

 

 

“Are you feeling better, Sakano-san?” Shuichi asked the producer anxiously.

Sakano smiled wanly at the hyperactive pink-haired singer. “I’m fine, Shindou-san,” he said quietly. This wasn’t completely true. The producer felt tired and rather washed out after the trip to the hospital, and he wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in his bed for at least twelve hours straight. But he couldn’t do that - he had a job to do. So he’d come straight back to the studio when the doctor had finally released him from the hospital.

Hiro shook his head. He was sitting on a chair, tuning his axe, while Suguru fiddled with his keyboard behind the guitarist. The redhead could see that the producer was still very wan and tired looking, and that the hand resting on the tabletop was shaking faintly. Even Shuichi, who wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, didn’t believe Sakano’s reassurances that he was fine. The singer looked doubtfully down at the producer, scratching his head worriedly. 

K came through the door just then, his face unreadable. He stopped when he saw Sakano sitting at the table. “What’re you doing here, Sakano?” he demanded. There was a thread of anger in his voice, as well as a bit of worry. 

Sakano heard only the anger. He hunched his shoulders and said defensively: “I have work to do, K-san. I can’t shirk my duties because of something so small.”

K’s lips thinned. “You call passing out and having to be carted to the hospital ‘small’?” he said incredulously. “You should be home resting.”

“I’m fine, K-san,” there was a streak of stubbornness in Sakano, and K had just come up against it. The blonde could see that arguing with Sakano about this would be a useless activity. Thinking of the plans he had for the producer, he decided to just give up for the moment. Sakano would get the rest he required soon, whether he liked it or not. 

“Whatever,” K rasped. He glared at Shuichi over the tops of his sunglasses. 

“Shouldn’t you be working?” he barked coldly. Shuichi’s eyes widened in fear, and he scurried back to his microphone. K went to lounge against the wall as Bad Luck began to play the new song that Shuichi had composed. The American stared at the back of Sakano’s slightly bent black head, seeing the weary droop to his shoulders. Watching the stressed-out man push himself like this made K want to shoot something...preferably the stubborn producer himself. Three days, K reminded himself. Only three more days, and Operation: Relax Sakano would swing into action. The producer would relax, and like it, or his name wasn’t Claude Winchester.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K takes matters into his own hands

Sakano walked into the NG building three days later, sighing a little to himself. The producer still felt rather tired, but he’d been too busy coordinating Bad Luck’s appearances and publicity shoots to get any rest. The band had finally finished its latest album, and now Sakano’s real job would begin. He confidently expected to spend ten to twelve hours a day on band business from now on, for the next few months at least. There would be no time for him to relax or rest, and he’d simply have to keep going. The producer's job was the most important thing in his life. If he ever really let himself think about it, his job was the ONLY thing in his life. Sakano had no personal life to speak of, and no time for hobbies or even for just having fun.

He knew that K wasn’t happy with him. The big blonde American kept glaring at him over the tops of those ubiquitous sunglasses whenever he saw him. Sakano could admit to himself that he was rather intimidated by K’s anger, but his stubborn nature refused to let him give up. So he kept coming to work and endured the glacial stares he received from that pair of angry dark-blue eyes, even though it sometimes made him sweat. Especially the times when K was standing right behind him, and he knew that the American was both heavily armed and very dangerous. It wasn’t good to piss off a crazy man with a gun, but Sakano just had to go to work. So he persevered, because he had no choice but to do so.

The producer walked toward the elevators, and felt a twinge of apprehension when he saw K leaning against the wall next to them. There was an unreadable look on the big blonde man's face. Somehow he mustered up a smile and a greeting for the tall American, in spite of the fact that K was making him nervous by staring at him over the tops of those sunglasses again. “Ohayo, K-san,” Sakano said softly.

“Ohayo, Sakano,” K replied calmly. He didn’t move as Sakano pushed the elevator button.

“Aren’t you coming up?” Sakano asked hesitantly, shooting him a sideways look to try to read the other man's profile. 

K nodded, once. “I’ll come up with you,” he said. Sakano’s heart sank. He didn’t want to be trapped in an elevator with an unhappy, gun-wielding lunatic, but he knew that there was no way that he could talk K out of coming up in the elevator with him.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Sakano shot K one last glance and hurried into it. The American picked himself off the wall in a leisurely fashion and ambled onto the elevator after the producer without a word. The doors closed behind them, and the elevator began to move upward smoothly. Sakano tried to think of something to say, to make light conversation, but having the big man standing right next to him in such a small space was making him feel claustrophobic - among other emotions. This reaction to K's presence made the producer feel even more nervous than usual, and he fixed his gaze on the lit up elevator buttons and tried not to breathe too loudly in the cramped space.

“Sakano,” K said when they were halfway to their floor.

“Hai?”

“I’m apologizing in advance,” K said, which statement puzzled Sakano. 

“For what, K-san?” he asked, starting to turn toward the American.

“For this,” suddenly Sakano felt a sharp sting as something was jabbed into his upper arm right through the cloth of his suit. He gave a soft, startled cry, his hand flying up to clutch at his arm. Almost instantly, the interior of the elevator began to spin wildly. He staggered, and felt a pair of broad hands grab him and hold him up. 

“Sorry,” he heard K’s voice say, and then everything went dark.

 

 

K held up Sakano as the producer went limp. He carefully removed the Japanese man's eyeglasses and tucked them into his own jacket pocket so that they wouldn’t get broken or lost. Then K picked the unconscious producer up and threw Sakano over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, before the American fished out a walkie-talkie from his pocket and thumbed it on. “I’m on my way up to the roof now,” he said into it. He waited for acknowledgement, then turned the walkie-talkie off and returned it to his pocket. The elevator dinged as it reached their floor and the doors slid open.

A startled secretary, waiting for the elevator, gasped when she saw K standing with Sakano draped over his shoulder. “Sorry, wrong floor,” the American drawled, hitting the button for the roof and giving the secretary a pleasant smile as the doors of the elevator slid shut once more.

 

 

K walked out onto the roof just as an Apache helicopter touched down on the helicopter pad. He stood upright in the whack of wind from the rotor blades, his long blonde hair streaming back behind him. A door in the side of the helicopter slid open, and a soldier waved to him to come aboard. He carried the drugged Sakano over and handed the Japanese man to the soldier. Then K jumped aboard the helicopter himself, and the door slid shut. The Apache leapt back into the air, buzzing away over Tokyo like a giant black bird in the direction of the American aircraft carrier docked in Tokyo harbor.

 

 

Twenty hours later, K and a still slumbering Sakano reached their destination. A military transport plane carried them part of the way, and then K charted a small civilian aircraft to make the short flight to the Bahamas. A hired ground car met him at the airport, and took them to the resort he’d picked out for Sakano’s program of rest and relaxation. The clerk at the desk looked at him a little oddly when he came up to ask about his reservations, since he was carrying a small unconscious Asian man over his shoulder. “He had too much to drink,” K explained to her calmly. “Passed right out. He just needs some rest.”

She looked relieved at this explanation, for the blonde man was very big and she’d also glimpsed a gun in a shoulder holster under his jacket. She was willing to accept any plausible story, just so that she didn’t have to get involved. The clerk hurriedly handed K his room key, and was happy to see the back of him as he walked off still carrying the Japanese man over his shoulder.

 

K took the elevator to the third floor, garnering amazed and uneasy stares from the other passengers on the way up. He chose not to explain anything to them, and merely gave them all a cold look from over the tops of his sunglasses instead. For some reason, every one of the other passengers decided that they had to get off on the second floor, and there was a near stampede off of the elevator when it stopped. K grinned as they all practically ran off of the elevator. He found himself the sole passenger for the short trip to the next floor, and began to whistle to himself cheerfully.

The room he'd booked for them was large, with two king size beds. He dumped Sakano on one of them and went to put his suitcase on the other. K had broken into the producer’s apartment to pack some things for him, but he hadn’t brought many of the other man's clothes since all Sakano seemed to have were business suits. The American intended to buy Sakano some more comfortable clothes a little later on, but for now all he had packed were two sets of business suits and some underwear. He set the small leather bag containing the things he had pilfered from Sakano’s apartment onto the floor next to the unconscious man’s bed. 

 

K stretched a bit with a grimace, feeling a touch of jet lag. He ambled over to the floor-length doors on the far wall and pushed them open, walking onto the balcony to look out over the jewel-toned ocean and the white beach below. They weren’t so far up that he couldn’t appreciatively eye the beautiful people sunbathing below him. The girls appeared to all be wearing nothing but floss, and the guys swim trunks or Speedos. Yes, this was the life, K thought in satisfaction. He was looking forward to this vacation, in spite of the fact that he’d be spending it with the nervous Sakano. He’d been working a bit too hard lately as well. 

 

K had thrown himself into work to try to forget his divorce. At the thought of Judy, his mouth thinned and his eyes went cold behind his shades. Years of marriage down the drain, with very little to show for it except for his son. While Michael made the whole thing worth it, the memory of how callously his wife had just up and divorced him out of the blue made him want to hit something very hard. Sure their marriage hadn’t been that good in the last few years, but damn…he shook his head and rubbed at his temples. 'I think I need a rest almost as much as Sakano does,' he thought wearily.

Once more he gazed out over the view. It was far enough away from his divorce that he was starting to think about having sex again. K was sure that he could find a willing partner somewhere down among the pack of good-looking young things making their sacrifices to the Sun God on the beach. It didn’t matter if it were a guy or a girl, either one would do. One side of his mouth quirked up as he thought of the shocked looks he knew he’d get if any one of his friends or colleagues knew that he was bi-sexual. You, K? They’d ask in disbelief. But you were married to a woman! To which he’d reply that people who were bi-sexual tended to be classified by the sex of their partner if they were in a monogamous relationship. Since he had been married to a woman (and faithful to her), he was straight. If he’d hooked up with a guy, he would’ve been considered gay.

In fact, maybe he’d look for an amenable male as his next sexual partner. It’d been a long time since he'd been with a guy. He could do with some variety in his love life. K nodded to himself decisively, and was just starting to go back inside to unpack when he heard a soft moan. Sakano was waking up. The blonde walked into the room and saw that the producer was beginning to move around on the bed. He went over to the bed as Sakano’s eyes flew open and stared muzzily upward. They were glassy from the tail end of the sedative, and bewilderment shone in their depths.

“Welcome back,” K said.

Sakano’s brows knit as his eyes attempted to focus. His head turned toward the familiar voice, and he blinked as K’s face swam into view. The American’s features were still rather blurry. The producer groaned a bit, struggling to think with a brain that felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. “K-san?” he croaked at last, when he finally managed to get his voice working again.

“Yeah, it’s me. Try not to move too much, Sakano, you’re going to have a bitch of a headache.”

“Why?” Sakano asked feebly, lifting a faintly trembling hand to rest it against his temple. There was, indeed, a horrid headache beginning pound behind his eyes. He moaned weakly in pain, still clutching at his head with shaking fingers.

K went over to pour a glass of water from the carafe on the nightstand, and to fetch some aspirin from his travel bag. He brought these back to the bed and helped Sakano to sit up a bit so that he could swallow without choking himself. The producer gratefully took the aspirin, drinking the rest of the water in the glass at K’s urging because one of the side effects of the sedative the American had used was dry mouth. K sat down on the side of the bed carefully and reached out a hand to begin to massage Sakano’s scalp with gentle fingers, making the producer give a soft sound of gratitude as those strong digits helped to soothe away the pain.

“What’s happening?” Sakano asked pitifully. “Why does my head hurt? Did I faint again?”

“Not exactly” K said, feeling kind of guilty. Never mind that this was for Sakano’s own good; the producer just looked so miserable and puzzled that he felt like he’d kicked a dog. “I’m afraid that you’ve been kidnapped, Sakano.”

Sakano’s large dark eyes flew open and stared up at K with fear in their depths. “Kidnapped?" He cried anxiously “By whom? Were you kidnapped too, K-san?”

K sighed. “No. I was the one who did the kidnapping,” he admitted.

“I…don’t understand,” Sakano whispered. “What do you mean, K-san?”

“You needed a vacation, Sakano. You’ve been too stressed lately, and it’s affecting your health. But I knew that there was no way that you’d just take one, because you’re a workaholic. So I decided to kidnap you and make sure that you got a vacation whether you wanted one or not. You need to rest and relax, Sakano, before you work yourself to death.”

Sakano lifted his head shakily to stare at the hotel room. He squinted, unable to see much past his nose. K took pity on him and went to fetch the producer's glasses for him. The blonde set them on the end of his nose, and the producer’s eyes widened when he saw the unfamiliar room. “Where are we?” 

“At a resort in the Bahamas,” K replied simply. “Tohma gave us both two weeks off,” he lied, since Seguchi Tohma would never have approved if K hadn’t just told him outright that they were going. 

Sakano gasped. The Shacho had sent him on vacation? Was Tohma angry with him? Was he unhappy with Sakano's work? Anxiety made him tremble faintly, and K sighed as he saw the look in the producer's dark eyes. “Tohma was worried about you,” he said, which was partially the truth. “He wanted you to get some rest and return to work feeling better.”

Sakano took in this news silently. Relief filled him, but at the same time he felt a terrible, aching void open up inside of him. What was he going to do for two whole weeks if he couldn’t work? Worse - how was he going to survive sharing a hotel room and a vacation with K, whom he had had a secret crush on ever since the first time that he’d seen the American? If there was such a thing as Hell, Sakano thought in horror, then he had just entered it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K takes care of Sakano

Much to K’s disconcertion, Sakano rolled over on his side into a fetal position and began to cry softly. The American had always been thrown by tears – whenever Judy would begin to cry, he'd always lose his mind. The blonde felt helpless when people cried, a feeling he hated. While K knew that the tears in this case were partially being caused by exhaustion and the remnants of the sedative in the producer's system, the sight of the tears gliding down Sakano’s cheeks was still like a blow to his solar plexus.

He put his hand on Sakano’s back and began to rub his hand in soothing circles. “Gomenasai, K-san,” the producer choked, sniffling like a child. He closed his eyes, ashamed of his own tears and the weakness causing them.

“It’s all right, Sakano,” K said. “You’re tired. You need to rest.” His voice was calm and gentle, and the tone of it helped to relax Sakano. The producer sighed as he gave in to the weariness that was drawing him down into true sleep. His breathing slowed and deepened, and K felt his body go limp as the poor stressed-out man fell asleep.

K sighed as he got up and bent over Sakano. He removed the producer’s glasses once more, and set them on the nightstand. Then the blonde loosened and removed Sakano's tie and took off his shoes. Lastly, K took off Sakano’s suit jacket, rolling the slender man to get it off of his body. He was pretty sure that his actions wouldn’t wake Sakano up - the exhausted man was sleeping pretty deeply. The American hung the jacket up on a hook in the bathroom, and then set Sakano's shoes neatly next to the slumbering man's bed. He paused, and stood for a moment looking down at the woeful countenance lying on the pillow. Tears were drying in streaks on Sakano’s fine-boned face, and he was pale. Pity stirred in K. He’d make sure that Sakano enjoyed this vacation, whatever it took. 

K's stomach growled at him as he went over to his bed to begin unpacking. The blonde considered calling room service, but he was afraid that it might wake Sakano. He decided to go and eat in the restaurant downstairs instead. He left the producer to his rest, locking the door behind him when he exited the room quietly. K strolled toward the elevators, noticing a pretty young woman already standing by them. She smiled at him as he came up, and her eyes ran over him appreciatively. K returned the favor, taking in gently rounded curves nicely packed into a yellow sun dress. 

The blonde thoroughly enjoyed flirting with the girl on the ride down, and he wasn’t really surprised when she gave him her room number. K left her in the lobby and headed for the restaurant, picking a small table to discourage anyone sitting down with him. He didn’t want to have a conversation with someone while he was eating. He ordered a steak and a beer, and while he waited for his order he considered the young woman from the elevator. She was a fine young thing, but a major problem for him was the fact that she was only in her early twenties. K was almost old enough to be her father, and while he’d enjoyed flirting with her he wasn’t sure that he wanted to sleep with someone who made him feel avuncular. Also, he still intended to find a guy if he could. And around here, there’d be plenty of opportunities. 

 

The waiter brought his food. K concentrated on his meal, as the steak was done just as he liked it. He ignored the smattering of other diners in the restaurant around him, concentrating on his food. He decided that after he’d eaten he’d go shopping for clothes for Sakano. K knew the producer’s size because of the tags in his clothes, and he’d gotten Sakano's shoe size from his loafers. K grinned evilly to himself as he pulled out the platinum NG credit card to pay for his meal, leaving a generous tip for the waiter. He’d stolen the card from Tohma, and he had no trouble at all forging the other man's signature. K doubted that Tohma would notice that the card was missing, because the head of NG had a wallet full of the things. The little bastard had obviously thought that K would be the one funding this vacation, a punishment because he was doing something that Tohma didn’t like.

Just wait until he got his credit card statements next month, K thought with a sly grin as he got up from the table and left the restaurant. Tohma would have an apopleptic attack. He wasn’t worried that Tohma would fire either him or Sakano over this, since it would look bad for the company’s public face. Plus, he needed them both too much. Tohma might try to find a more subtle way to punish K for his theft, but frankly he didn’t care. K wasn’t scared of Tohma. The manipulative little shit deserved anything that he got. K knew that he’d just have shot Tohma in the back of the head months ago if he thought that he could have gotten away with it.

 

 

He returned to the room hours later, laden with bags. K had to set them down to open the door, and then he dragged the heavy bags into the room and dumped them by Sakano’s bed. The producer was still asleep - not a big surprise. Between his exhaustion caused by stress, and the remnants of the sedative in his system, the producer would most likely sleep until morning. K unpacked the bags, and put the clothes into the luggage that he’d also purchased. He left the luggage near the producer's bed, and went over to sit down on the edge of his bed. He yawned as he rubbed at the side of his face. he was tired from jet lag, and he was looking forward to getting some sleep himself. 

K stripped off his clothes. He usually slept naked, but he didn’t want to freak Sakano out by doing so this time. So he dug out a pair of sweat pants with a drawstring and pulled them on, then reached up to pull the hair tie out and let his long hair fall around his face. Dragging back the covers, K crawled into the extremely comfortable bed and covered himself with the sheets and one light blanket. It was too hot for anything else. The American was soon asleep, snoring lightly.

 

 

Sakano was dreaming. In it, he was standing in Tohma’s office right in front of the blonde's desk. The head of NG was sitting down, staring up at Sakano coldly out of his light-blue eyes. The producer was frozen in fear, unable to look away from that icy blue stare. “Sakano-san,” Tohma said in his high, light, merciless voice. “You are a failure. A useless drag on my organization. I’m afraid that I’ll have to terminate you.” When he said this, he waved a slim hand at someone standing just behind Sakano.

A tall figure walked into Sakano’s line of vision. K’s face was emotionless, and he held his gun in his hand. He lowered his head so that Sakano could see his eyes behind the inevitable shades. They were the red eyes of a demon, the cat-slit pupils contracting as K smiled, revealing a mouthful of sharp fangs. The American raised the gun and pointed it at Sakano, and the producer opened his mouth to scream. But no sound would come out, and he could only stand there in helpless terror as K pulled the trigger. . .

 

Sakano awoke with a scream of fear lodged in his throat, sitting up in bed abruptly. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he gasped desperately for breath. It didn’t help that he awoke to an unfamiliar room. For a moment the producer panicked because he couldn’t remember where he was, and the thin film of moonlight falling through the balcony doors only seemed to make the hotel room seem an alien, frightening place to his sleep and sedative-fogged mind. In a state of complete terror, he rolled right off the bed and fell to the floor on all fours, beginning to hyperventilate.

 

K came awake at the sound of movement and Sakano’s harsh, frantic breathing. The American sat up in bed, instantly alert, his hand going for the gun under his pillow. It took him only an instant to realize that there was no intruder, that it was Sakano who was making those sounds. K was out of bed in a flash, hurrying over to find the producer on his hands and knees next to his bed, gasping and wheezing. K knelt down next to the distressed man and put his hand on a trembling shoulder.

“Sakano!” he said urgently. “Sakano, breathe. Take deep breaths. You’re hyperventilating.”

His touch made Sakano start. For a moment his fear deepened, as the memory of the terrible dream he’d woken up from flashed through his brain. But as K began to gently stroke his hair while still telling him to breathe, the producer began to relax. Sakano trusted K. The terror leeched away, leaving him trembling and weak. The producer began to breathe slowly and deeply, his chest aching. A pair of strong hands slid under his armpits and pulled him to his feet. K sat him down on the edge of his bed. “You okay, Sakano?” He asked worriedly.

“I…” his voice was hoarse. “Gomen, K-san. I had a bad dream, is all…”

“Must’ve been a doozy,” K said.

Sakano didn’t want to tell K the details of his dream. “Hai,” was all he said.

The tall American moved away for a moment to turn on the small light on the nightstand. He fetched Sakano a glass of water, which the producer gratefully accepted. He took it with shaking hands and sipped at it. But he nearly choked on the water when he happened to glance up and realized that K was standing over him wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweat pants…

His vision was a little blurry, but K was standing close enough that he didn’t need his glasses to see the broad, tanned, muscular chest with its scattering of blonde hairs. Sakano felt his breathing pick up once more as he stared helplessly at K’s naked chest, unable to tear his eyes away. The producer's mouth opened a little, and his eyes glazed over a bit as his libido went into hyperactive mode. It was a wonder that there wasn’t drool forming at the side of his mouth.

K’s brows drew together. Sakano had a peculiar expression on his face, and he looked as though he were spacing out. “Sakano?” he asked worriedly, waving a hand in front of the producer’s face. “You all right?"

Sakano was brought back to earth by K’s gesture and question. A flash of horrified embarrassment went through him as he realized that he’d been staring openly at K’s chest like a dog looking at an especially juicy bone. The producer turned his head hurriedly away as color flamed in his face. “H-hai, I’m all right,” he gasped.

K looked down at him doubtfully. Sakano didn’t sound all right. There was a choked quality to his voice. “You sure?”

Sakano nodded vigorously, not trusting his voice. K sighed. “Okay. Do you want to try to go back to sleep, or catch a late night movie on the cable?”

Sakano felt a flash of warmth when he realized that K was prepared to stay up with him if he couldn’t go back to sleep, in spite of the fact that the American was probably very tired. But he wasn’t going to put K out just because he’d had a nightmare. That was childish. “I’ll go back to sleep,” the producer said as firmly as he could. To prove he meant what he said, Sakano lay back down on his bed and turned over onto his side. The producer closed his eyes, although he knew that it would probably be a long time before he got back to sleep again. 

Sakano felt K's eyes resting on him, but after awhile he heard the sounds of the American returning to his own bed and lying down with a tired sigh. He remained unmoving until K’s soft snores told him that the blonde was asleep again, then Sakano opened his eyes again and stared at the shadowy hotel room until they began to burn and his weariness forced him into sleep once more in spite of his apprehension. But this time the producer didn’t dream – or if he did, Sakano didn’t remember any of them in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K is taking care of Sakano .Will it turn into something more?

Sakano awoke to a touch on his shoulder. Sunlight was streaming through the balcony doors, telling him it was at least mid morning. He blinked up at K’s blurry face above him. “Here” a hand settled his glasses on his face, and the blonde's features became sharp and clear once more.

“Ohayo, Sakano” K said good-naturedly. “I think you should probably get up. You’ve slept the morning away. Plus, you must be starving by now.”

When he said this, the producer became aware of the fact that his stomach thought his throat had been cut. There was loud growling in his abdomen, which made him blush in embarrassment. K grinned at both the sound and the faint blush that stained the producer's cheekbones. “I ordered room service” he said, straightening up. “So why don’t you take a shower and get into some clean clothes.”

Sakano realized that he was still wearing the rumpled remains of his suit, and that he didn’t smell that good either. The producer wrinkled his nose as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He noticed that K was dressed, and that the long blonde hair streaming down the taller man's back was still faintly damp from the shower. The American waved a hand at the bathroom. “Go hop in the shower and I’ll give you some clean clothes to wear” he directed.

The producer moved to the edge of the bed and pushed himself slowly to his feet. He wavered for a moment, and then his legs firmed under him. Sakano's brain wasn’t working as well as it should be, but he did wonder where K had gotten new clothes for him. “K-san?” he said.

“Yeah?” The American had leaned over and was opening a leather suitcase sitting beside Sakano’s bed. The producer hurriedly looked away from the sight of the other man's ass, outlined under the fabric of his khaki slacks. 

“Where did you get clothing for me?”

The blonde looked over his shoulder at Sakano briefly. His blue-purple eyes gleamed with amusement. “I bought them new at the shops in town. I had to, since when I broke into your apartment…” he began.

Sakano gasped. "Y-You broke into my apartment?” He blurted in disbelief, even as a chill went through him. Had the American discovered the photo album under his bed, the one that had nothing but pictures of K in it? Surely not, or he probably would have said something about it. Bad Luck's manager wasn’t exactly discreet.

“Yeah” K confirmed, turning back to the luggage as he spoke. “But you didn’t have anything but business suits in your closet. Hell, man, don’t you even own a pair of shorts or anything?”

Sakano felt himself blushing again. “No” he admitted stiffly.

K shook his head as he straightened up with a pile of clothes in his arms. “That’s just sad, Sakano” he chided the producer gently. “Here, take these in with you” he shoved the clothes into Sakano’s arms, and then reached down to pick up a small leather bag. “Here’s the stuff from your bathroom. Razor, toothbrush, that kind of thing. Although I really don’t know what you need a razor for, Sakano. Your skin’s as smooth as a baby’s behind” he studied the Japanese man's delicate jaw line as he spoke, and the producer felt his blush deepen until he resembled a cherry tomato.

“I’ll just go and take a shower” Sakano said hurriedly, and nearly ran off to the bathroom. Once inside he shut the door and stood with his back up against it, the clothing clutched to his chest. This was so bad. He’d been around K for no more than fifteen hours, and he’d spent most of that time asleep. But already he’d ogled the American's bare chest and also stared at K's ass. Gods, how was he supposed to survive another two weeks of this? 

Sakano closed his eyes and sighed. Then he opened them again and went to set the pile of clothes on the toilet. He turned on the shower, noticing that the tile was still damp from K’s shower. The producer waited for the water to become warm but not hot, and then began to strip off his wrinkled, sweat dampened clothing. He was grateful to get out of them; he felt both dirty and uncomfortable wearing clothes he’d had on for almost two days. Even though they were dirty, he tried to neatly fold the shirt and pants. Sakano laid them on the sink counter for now before shucking out of his briefs.

He stepped into the shower with a grateful sigh. It would be so nice to be clean again. The producer let the warm water flow over him, washing away some of the stiffness and aches in his muscles. He closed his eyes as the water ran down his face and plastered his hair to his skull. Sakano didn’t have too many indulgences in his life; but one of the things he did have were long showers. They were a sensual pleasure for him. 

The hotel had provided both shampoo and soap. Sakano lathered himself up thoroughly, rinsing away the sweat and grime from his slender body. When he finally felt clean again, he simply stood under the running water and enjoyed himself. Now that he wasn’t doing anything towards his personal hygiene regimen, his mind began to wander. It was then that he remembered the damp tiles in the shower, and K’s still wet hair. The American had used this shower not long ago…A shiver went through him as he imagined K standing under the water, moisture running down his powerful naked form in long rivulets, while he soaped himself up with his own broad hands…

Sakano groaned softly as his body stirred at the exciting image. Feeling both illicit excitement and shame, he ran his hand down his body and took a hold of his erection. He stood with his eyes closed, letting pictures of a naked, water dappled K run through his head as he stroked himself. The producer tried to keep his moans quiet, although between the closed door and the running water the sound shouldn’t carry out into the other room. He bit his lip a little as his hand began to move faster. 

This wasn’t the first time that K had provided Sakano with erotic fantasies while he masturbated in the shower. One of the reasons that the producer found showers to be such a sensual delight was that he often pleasured himself while bathing. The warm water running down his body sometimes felt like hands gliding over his skin. It amplified the sensations coursing through him, and he could imagine that it was K’s hands sliding down his bare skin as he fisted himself to orgasm. 

His moan when he came was so loud that he was afraid that K might have heard it. Sakano slumped back against the tiled shower wall, panting for breath as he came down from the high. He lazily ran a hand down his own stomach, enjoying the feel of his sensitized skin in the wake of his coming. A sudden knock on the door made him stiffen and come out of his dazed, sated state. “Hey, did you die in there?” K’s voice called good-naturedly through the door, and a painful blush spread over Sakano’s face and chest as he hurriedly exited the shower and turned off the water. “I’ll be out in a moment” he called as he grabbed a towel to dry himself off with.

“You don’t have to hurry. I was just concerned you might have fallen and hit your head or something” K replied easily.

“N-no, I’m fine” he said quickly. 

“Okay” there was silence outside after that, and Sakano breathed a sigh of relief as he dried off and then picked up the clothes that K had gotten for him. In the pile he found a long sleeved light cotton shirt in a stunning shade of royal blue, and a pair of tan pants. The producer blushed again to see that there was also a pair of men’s briefs in the pile. He tried not to think of K buying underwear for him, as it just seemed too intimate an act. Sakano pulled on the briefs and the pants, then put on the shirt. Everything fit perfectly, much to his surprise. He buttoned up the shirt as he looked in the fogged up mirror above the sink. The color of the shirt complimented his skin tones, and made his large dark eyes look even bigger than normal and very bright. The producer tucked it into the pants, his slender fingers smoothing the soft cloth down the front. 

This was the first time that Sakano had worn such casual clothing in years. He’d forgotten how comfortable such apparel could be. The producer was aware of his bare feet, but K hadn’t given him any shoes to wear. He fisted his toes into the carpet while he brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his damp dark hair. Sakano's glasses were fogged up from the shower as well, so he used a cloth to clean them before he slipped them on. The man staring back at him from the mirror looked younger and more relaxed by far than the Sakano he saw every day in his mirror back home. This Sakano was even smiling a little.

He finished up in the bathroom and shyly went out into the bedroom once again. K was sitting in his bed, cleaning one of his guns while he waited for Sakano to reappear. There was a food cart sitting near the door, and the producer felt his mouth water just at the sight of it. K looked up at him and eyed him in satisfaction. “That’s more like it” he said in approval. Sakano felt another blush start in his cheeks at the pleased tone in K’s voice.

“I wanted to say thank you for the clothes, K-san” he said softly.

K shrugged. “Don’t thank me, thank Tohma. He’s the one that paid for them.”

Sakano looked surprised. The Shacho had provided money to buy him new clothes? He was both amazed and pleased at his boss’s generosity. Seeing the worshipful look in the slender producer's eyes, K rolled his own. He’d reinforced Sakano’s good opinion of Tohma, something he’d rather not do too often. But then, Seguchi Tohma could probably cut off Sakano’s head and the man would only thank him for the privilege of getting to stand under his knife.

K finished cleaning the gun and stowed it under his pillow again. “Let’s eat” he said. He got up and went over to the cart, lifting the lids to reveal a good old fashioned American breakfast of bacon and eggs. Happily the blonde dug in, grateful not to have to eat Japanese food. K hadn’t found much that he actually liked in Japanese cuisine, and some of what they ate was actually vomitous. Sakano didn’t look as happy, but then he’d seen the man eat boiled squid and tofu (in K’s opinion, tofu had been created as a way to punish people).

The American watched Sakano as he ate. The producer had more color in his face, and he already looked more relaxed. The slim man's hair clung in damp black strands on his neck, and it occurred to K that Sakano was actually pretty good looking. He had a delicately handsome face, and his eyes (when not half obscured behind the lenses of his glasses) were large and expressive. K wondered idly why Sakano didn’t have a girlfriend. But then he remembered what a workaholic the producer was. No girl would stand for her man giving way more attention to his job than her, and preferring to kiss his boss’s ass rather than have a good old fashioned fuck fest at home. Maybe once he got Sakano to relax enough K could talk him into not working so hard, and maybe even take the producer out and help him get laid. Regular sex ought to loosen Sakano up wonderfully.

Sakano became aware of K’s eyes on him. He kept his own eyes riveted on his plate, as though he found his food intensely interesting. Thee producer blessed the fact that he’d just masturbated in the shower, or he suspected that he’d be sporting an erection just from having K’s eyes on him. Once again the producer wondered what he’d done in a past life to have this torture visited on him. Whatever it was, all he could think was that it must have been pretty bad for him to have to endure his present circumstances. Time and space must have warped, because for Sakano these next two weeks were going to be an Eternity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K learns something surprising about Sakano...

“Hey, Sakano, get your butt in here! The water’s great!" K’s voice was cheerful.

From where he was sitting under a beach umbrella on an oversized towel, the producer shook his head. Sakano was happy where he was, and besides to venture out of the cover of the umbrella meant he had to slather his pale skin with tons of sun block. K snorted at his silent refusal, but didn’t push him over it. Instead, the blonde turned and dove into the waves, his tall form cutting the water like a dolphin. 

Sakano lounged in the shade and indulged in his new favorite past time – watching K frolic in the waves. The American wore only a pair of swim trunks that were plastered to his body. Whenever he stood up, water dappled his brown skin, and ran down his body just like in Sakano’s erotic imaginings in the shower. It was the most pleasurable torture that the producer had ever gone through, and he found himself unable to stop subjecting himself to it. In the three days that they’d been at the resort so far, they’d spent the majority of their time on the beach. K was even browner than he had been before, a tall golden god come down to Earth to romp with mere mortals in the blue, blue water. 

Sakano groaned as he sat up, and rested his head on his drawn up knees. Being so close to the object of his secret desire, watching K move lithely in the water while wearing the bare minimum of clothes, was akin to having red-hot bamboo shoots jammed under his fingernails. It had been so much easier to handle this crush when they were merely working together, and could maintain some kind of formality. The producer had accepted the fact that he’d never get what he wanted – K was straight, after all, and even if he hadn’t been what would a man like him ever see in someone like Sakano? He knew that he was boring and anxious and rather drab. The American was fun and lively and had a larger-than-life personality. K no doubt found the producer to be rather dull. If he ever thought much about Sakano at all, that is. The producer highly doubted that.

He sighed. Life had been so much easier before the day he’d arrived at the NG building, and had seen a tall, handsome Caucasian man standing in front of it, with another man whom he’d recognized as Sakuma Ryuichi. Sure he’d been a little lonely, with only his work as an outlet, but that was still better than the experience of falling painfully and utterly in love with a man he couldn’t have, a man who tolerated his existence and nothing more. Before that day, Sakano had been content with his life, if nothing else. Maybe not happy, but then the producer could never remember a time when he’d been really happy…

Sakano had been raised in a strict, conservative family by people who showed little love for their offspring. He’d learned early on to be a controlled person, someone who seldom showed his emotions. He'd worked hard in school, and had gotten good grades because that was expected of him. Sakano's life had been rather barren, but he’d learned to accept it. Until in high school, when he began to have his first stirrings of sexual urges - and realized, to his horror, that he was drawn to men sexually. That was when he'd become the anxious, nervous person that he still was today. His sexual leanings were shameful. He was shameful. The thought of his parents finding out that their son was a budding homosexual was one that Sakano could not even contemplate. 

So Sakano had tamped down his desires, ruthlessly suppressing them. He became nearly asexual, withdrawn sexually as he had been emotionally. Sakano threw himself into school, first high school and then college. He did very well in his studies, but he had no personal life whatsoever. He even had few friends, because of his shy, introverted nature, and his secret fear that someone would find out about his being gay. The fits of anxiety were partially caused by his fear of failure, and also by the belief that he wasn’t good enough. Sakano was afraid that he’d failed his parents, society and even himself because of his unnatural urges. Whenever he saw a man that he felt drawn to in any way, shame and disgust at himself would flow through him.

After college, Sakano threw himself into work with just as much vigor. Even if he'd been willing to indulge in an affair with another man, he just didn’t know how to go about meeting any. He couldn’t bring himself to go to the clubs that gay men tended to frequent, and it wasn’t as though there were social mixers for homosexuals. Even if there HAD been, Sakano wouldn’t have attended any of them. He was still too ashamed of his own sexuality. He didn’t want anyone to find out. He hadn’t just been in the closet; he’d been so totally in denial that it just wasn’t funny. But he’d always been busy and occupied, especially when he became the manager of a fledgling new group calling themselves Bad Luck. Sakano had liked both of the young men right away, for bouncy Shuichi was a sweet, bubbly creature, and quiet Hiro was kind and gentle. He’d seen the talent they had, and he knew that they’d be going places. 

Just as he’d predicted, Bad Luck had taken off like a rocket. Sakano was aware that some of the credit for their success was his, and he was happy to have helped them succeed. Perhaps he might have gone along, busy and fulfilled (well somewhat, anyway) except the Gods had thrown him a curve ball in the shape of a tall, blonde American. The first time that he saw K, leaning against the wall of the building and looking bored, something had happened to Sakano. His heart had begun to beat so fast that he'd felt sick. Sakano had become breathless, and weird little shivers of heat and cold had run over his limbs. He’d been scared of this reaction at the time, because he'd had no precedent for it. Sakano had actually thought that he was sickening for something, or maybe even having a heart attack.

It had taken him weeks of having a similar reaction (although not as strong after the first time) whenever he saw K to realize that this wasn’t a sickness of the body. No, it was much worse than that. He’d read about romantic love in books, although he’d always felt pretty skeptical of those descriptions of it. Coming to realize that he had succumbed to something that he hadn’t even believed in was a shock for Sakano. An even bigger shock was the blossoming of his sexuality. Before, it had been easy to control and contain his desires. While he might find some men appealing, always before he’d been able to tamp down that attraction and pretend it didn’t exist. But with K it was different. Sakano found himself getting erections almost continuously, as though he were a young teenage boy again. All he had to do was hear K’s voice, or see the blonde do something like playing with his hair, and the poor producer was instantly hard.

That was when he'd begun to learn the fine art of masturbation. Sakano always waited until he was at home in his own small apartment – partially because he was too shy to ever try something in a public place, and partially because he was aware of the fact that the Shacho had cameras everywhere in the NG building. He also began to watch gay porn occasionally, seeking an outlet for the desire that K stirred in him so easily. And that was where his sex life had stalled, because even if he had wanted to do more than jack off, he didn’t want to have sex with anyone but K. And the American was not only taken, he was also straight. 

K’s divorce had been hard on him. Sakano had grieved for him, seeing the depth of pain that the American was in. The producer had wanted so desperately to comfort K, to help the other man get over it. But he couldn’t. Instead, Sakano could only watch from afar as the American mourned for the death of his marriage. His inability to help or console the man he loved had deepened the producer's stress and anxiety, until sometimes he felt like he was falling apart. It was no wonder, really, that he’d passed out a week ago. Because of that incident, here he was on vacation with the only man he had ever loved, and who he couldn’t have. Irony was a weapon of the Gods.

:Here you are, Sakano Touji:, he thought as he wrapped his arms around his knees and continued to gaze at the tall man who was now flirting with two pretty girls in string bikinis, :a nearly thirty year old virgin in love with a straight man:. Oh, how he sometimes wished that he could just fall back out of love with K, and go find someone else. Someone who wanted him. But unfortunately for the miserable producer, that wasn’t how the heart worked. He strongly suspected that he’d probably love K for the rest of his life, and die a dried-up old man who was still a virgin, and who had no one to mourn his passing. Sakano rested his head on his knees and fought back tears at this depressing thought. 

His self-pity fest was broken into by young-sounding tenor voice speaking English over his head. “Excuse me?” the voice said.

Sakano raised his head to see a young man in his early twenties standing beside the umbrella. He was handsome in a fresh-faced sort of way, with short blonde hair, and smiling blue eyes. His looks reminded Sakano somewhat of Tohma’s, although without the calculation in the blue eyes. 

“Hi,” he said, gazing down at Sakano with interest in his eyes. “Do you speak English?”

Sakano nodded hesitantly. The young man grinned. “Great. My name’s Brad. Brad Simpson. What’s yours?”

Sakano blinked a little at the boy’s forwardness. “I am Sakano Touji,” he said quietly.

“Sakano…Touji,” the young man repeated haltingly. “Cool. Sakano’s your last name, right?”

“No, my first,” Sakano said in puzzlement.

“Huh? Oh, that’s right; you call your last name your first in Japan, don’t you? So - are you on vacation?”

Sakano nodded. He wasn’t sure why the young American (he had an accent a bit like K’s) was talking to him. “Me, too,” Brad said. “Are you staying at the hotel?” Sakano made an assenting motion with his head.

Brad smiled dazzlingly. “That’s awesome. I’ve been watching you for a little while, and I just wanted to say that you’re really cute. Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

Stunned, Sakano realized that the handsome American youth was actually hitting on him. He didn’t know what to say, how to turn the young man down. The producer only stared up at Brad, a perplexed look on his face, not realizing how cute he was when he looked like that. The Japanese man's expression only made the blonde even more interested in him. Not that there weren’t a lot of good-looking men at this resort, but there was something about the little Asian's sweet face that attracted Brad greatly. “So what do you say?" He pushed. “Will you go out to dinner with me?”

 

 

K enjoyed his mild flirtation with the two pretty girls almost as much as he enjoyed swimming in the warm tropical water. Somebody started a splashing contest, and soon there were at least a dozen participants. He wished that he could get Sakano to come into the water and play; so far he’d only managed to talk the producer into actually swimming twice. The blonde looked over to the umbrella, wondering if he could wheedle Sakano into joining the fun. He saw the producer talking to a young white kid, and there was something about the way that this guy was looking at Sakano that made K’s brows draw together ominously. Was this guy making a move on the producer? He began to wade out of the water, heading for the beach.

As K strode across the white sand, he heard the guy say to the producer: "So, what do you say? Will you go out to dinner with me?" The little shit WAS hitting on Sakano! He didn’t consider what caused the irrational spurt of anger that swept through him. All he thought was that Sakano didn’t need to be propositioned by some player, and a gay one, at that. He most likely wouldn’t know how to respond, and this stupid kid would continue to bug him.

Sakano didn’t say anything in answer to to the kid’s question. K walked up behind the other blonde and growled very softly “He doesn’t want to go anywhere with you, kid.”

Brad turned quickly at the sound of a menacing voice speaking over his shoulder. He gaped at the sight of a tall, well-muscled hunk standing behind him. There was an artic glint in his eyes as he stared down at Brad. Usually he’d have found this guy drool-worthy, but not when the other blonde looked like he was considering removing several of Brad’s important body parts. He gulped and backed up a little. “Sorry,” he said, putting up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t know he was taken,” Brad hurried away down the beach, feeling those blue-purple eyes boring into his back the entire time as he practically ran off.

K snorted. “You okay, Sakano?” he asked the producer.

Sakano nodded. K had saved him from an awkward situation, sending the insistent Brad practically running. The American nodded sharply. “You should have told that kid that you weren’t interested,” he chided Sakano. “If you’d told him you were straight right away, he wouldn’t have kept bugging you.”

Sakano blinked when K said this. “I couldn’t do that, K-san,” he said softly.

K looked puzzled by this statement. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m not straight,” Sakano said quietly but firmly. “I’m gay.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K now knows that Sakano is gay. Will he be interested in the spazzy producer?

A/N: Hey, Kuroneko, do you like my gravitation stuff, too? If you leave a comment, I might put this up faster, as well...you never know... :P -DL

 

K’s jaw dropped at Sakano’s softly spoken confession. “You are?" he said.

Sakano nodded. This was the first time that he’d ever said that aloud, and he somehow felt better for admitting it. “Hai.” 

The American closed him mouth as a thoughtful expression passed over his face. Now that he thought about it, the signs were there. K just hadn’t picked up on them because he never watched the producer that closely. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he remarked.

The producer watched the blonde's face rather anxiously to see how he’d respond to this revelation. Would he be disgusted? Horrified? What if he decided he wanted nothing else to do with Sakano? K was a straight American male, after all. Many of them were quite touchy about gay men. He prepared himself for any reaction, even the really bad ones. It would break his heart if K looked at him with disgust in those dark blue eyes, but he could handle it. Really.

K rolled his shoulders. “Well. Maybe I shouldn’t have run that guy off, then,” he said lightly. “You could have had a date for tonight.”

Sakano felt his tense muscles relax so much at this nonchalant statement that it was a wonder he didn’t turn into a pile of goo right then and there. Happiness welled up in him, and he smiled even as he shook his head in answer. “Ie. I didn’t want to go out with him, K-san. But I wasn’t sure how to tell him no.”

The American snorted good-humouredly. “You just put your lips together and say ‘no,'" he replied with a wink. “It’s not that hard, Sakano,” he wondered what had caused the slim Japanese man's dark eyes to light up like that, and the blonde felt an uneasy feeling go through him at the sight of them.

Sakano nodded. “Hai. I’ll try to do better next time, K-san.”

“That’s right. You won’t always have me around to run these turkeys off for you” K frowned a little at the sharp sting that went through him at his own casual words, scratching at his head in puzzlement. What the hell was wrong with him?

The producer tried not to let K see how mournful the American's words made him feel. It had been rather nice to have K be his knight in shining armor, even if it was only the one time. But the blonde broke into his bittersweet thoughts by saying briskly: “Come on, Sakano. Let’s go back to the hotel. I think we should get a massage in the spa.”

Sakano got to his feet. “All right,” he agreed. He turned around and bent over to retrieve the oversized towel, shaking the sand from it before folding it over his arm.

K stood frozen behind him, his eyes fixed on the sight of Sakano’s ass outlined in the fabric of the pair of swim trunks the slender man was wearing. He felt his cock stirring to life and nearly groaned. While he’d come to realize over the past few days that Sakano was an attractive guy, his assumption that the producer was straight had kept him from having any real lustful thoughts about the other man. But Sakano admitting that he was gay had changed all that. Now his sexually deprived libido was shoving at K hard, pointing out that Sakano had a really nice ass. He had to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from putting out a hand and touching it.

Sakano straightened up. He turned to K and gave the other man a puzzled, questioning look. K had strange expression on his face, and his dark blue eyes looked rather glazed. Was he getting heat stroke? “Are you all right, K-san?” he asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” K replied in a harsh voice. “I’m fine, Sakano. Let’s go.”

The producer still looked at him dubiously for a moment, but then decided to accept his assurances. Sakano turned and began to walk over the sand toward the beachside entrance of the hotel. K followed him slowly, trying not to stare at the lithe sway of the Japanese man's slender hips. Dammit, Dammit, Dammit! He ground his teeth. This was not good. Lusting after Sakano was not something he should be doing. The producer was not only a work colleague, but also a friend. There was no way that he was going to embark on a one night stand or even a short affair with the other man. They’d still have to work together after it was over, and it would be hideously awkward. He definitely needed to find someone else to have sex with and soon.

Once in the cool interior of the hotel, the two men headed for the door that led into the spa section of the resort. The girl at the desk said that there was an opening in the masseuses' two o’clock schedule, so they only had to wait for fifteen minutes. K for one was grateful to hear that. For some strange reason, all of his muscles had become like rocks in the last five minutes. Definitely ALL of them, he thought ruefully as they went into the small changing room to strip off their clothes and wrap towels around their waists. 

He surreptitiously watched as Sakano pulled the short sleeved green t-shirt he was wearing over his head, revealing a pale, slim torso. The American tried hard not to drool as the producer picked up a towel and half wrapped it around himself before he slid off his swim trunks. K’s imagination was working overtime, imagining what was under that flimsy towel that Sakano was knotting at his hip. He was glad that he’d already wrapped himself in a towel, as it was loose enough to conceal his lap from Sakano’s eyes. Despite the air conditioning, he could feel himself breaking out in a light film of sweat. :Fuck, Claude, get a hold of yourself!: He barked mentally. You’re acting like a teenager for Chrissakes.

Sakano, blithely unaware of the reaction he was causing in his companion, took off his sandals and set them on the bench. K knew that he was royally fucked when he noticed what pretty feet the other man had. It was a major disaster in the making when he found himself eyeing a pair of delicate, well formed ankles and two small, lovely feet. The American had a sudden vision of those feet wrapped around his waist or draped over his shoulders, and he bit back a harsh groan only with difficulty. It didn’t help that those feet were attached to a pair of long slim legs almost totally bared to his sight. Oh, God was he screwed!

The producer sat down on the bench. One of his hands rose up to adjust his glasses, and K found himself watching those slim fingers. :Stop it, stop it, stop it!: He rubbed at his face, fighting for control over himself and losing the fight spectacularly. His cock twitched between his legs. The blonde knew that he had to pull himself together, or getting a massage was going to be a really painful experience. He closed his eyes and thought of the least sexy things possible, like his Great Aunt Dora at the beach in a swimsuit. It was a wonder that that sight hadn’t stunted him sexually for the rest of his life, and it did the trick beautifully. He was grateful to feel his erection subsiding, and just to be safe he kept his eyes closed.

Sakano, unaware of the effect he was having on K, waited patiently for a masseuse to appear. He was just happy that telling the manager of Bad Luck that he was gay hadn’t destroyed their friendship. The producer could handle the fact that K was only a friend, and would always only be a friend - but it was a hideous thought for him that the truth about his sexuality might have killed even that. He’d taken a great chance in confessing to K, but he was tired of hiding. And the blonde had reacted so well that he thought that he’d be able to tell his other friends as well. Not that Shuichi would react badly, since he lived with another man. Hiro of course had nothing against gay people, either, since his best friend and band mate was gay. Or ‘Yuki-sexual’, anyway. It made Sakano smile to think of that term. The singer was just so cute. The producer understood his adoration of the sometimes surly, anti-social writer. He, after all, was in love with a gun-toting American maniac. The heart was not logical, and sometimes seemed a totally insane organ. 

A pretty dark woman appeared in the doorway. She smiled at Sakano. “Are you my two o’clock?” she asked in accented English. The producer glanced at K, who had opened his eyes when she spoke. 

“Yeah,” the American replied. He spoke to Sakano without looking at him. “You should go first, Sakano. I’ll wait for the next one.”

“Are you sure, K-san?” Sakano asked, wondering why the American was staring so hard at the masseuse. 

K nodded sharply. He waved at the woman. “Get going, Sakano.”

The producer got to his feet and followed the masseuse. He glanced back at over his shoulder, and saw that K was slumped over on the bench with his elbows on his knees. Was he not feeling well? Sakano wondered. The producer worried a bit as he followed the masseuse into a small room with a massage table in it. He lay down on his stomach as she directed him to, and sighed happily as he felt her strong hands begin to stroke his shoulders. It had been awhile since he’d had a good massage, and this masseuse was very talented. His muscles were soon warmed and relaxed, and he closed his eyes drowsily as she began to work on the muscles in his legs.

K’s masseuse was a man, a big muscular man with a broad face and kindly eyes. As he lay on the table, the blonde tried to enjoy the massage and not think about the man in the next room. But images of hands stroking and massaging Sakano’s pale skin kept flashing through his head, and he found himself feeling rather jealous of the female masseuse. He grimaced at the pain in his groin as he set out once more to try to rein in his libido. “You need to relax, man” his masseuse chided him, and K sighed.

“I would if I could,” he muttered. What an irony, that he was being chided about the same thing that he’d been lecturing Sakano about! Especially since it was the producer’s fault in the first place that he was as tense as a bowstring.

“Woman troubles?” the masseuse remarked as he dug his thumbs into K’s shoulder muscles.

K snorted. “Hardly,” he said.

There was a short silence, and then the masseuse said: “Man troubles, then?”

“Definitely” K replied rather morosely. 

“Want to talk about it?”

Masseuse as confessor? K debated this, and after a moment decided that it couldn’t hurt anything. “I just found out that a friend of mine is gay” he began. 

“Hmmm,” the masseuse began to run his hands down K’s spine. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Both,” K said. “See, the real problem is that I’m bi-sexual. I always thought that this guy was straight, but now that I know better I’m starting to look at him different.”

“Why is that bad?” asked the masseuse curiously.

K frowned. “Well, because I also have to work with this guy. It would be bad for our professional relationship if I slept with him.”

“Huh” the masseuse sounded musing. “Why?” he asked after a moment.

K was getting annoyed. “Because it would be pretty uncomfortable for both of us at work if we had an affair and then had to go back to being just colleagues.” 

“Why would you have to do that?” the masseuse asked. “Do you like this guy?”

K raised his head a bit to look up at the broad face with its friendly dark eyes. “What do you mean, do I like him?” he asked.

The man shrugged, moving over to get a dish of warmed oil off a small table nearby. “You said that he’s a friend, and now you want to sleep with him. That sounds like at least two of the ingredients necessary for a relationship. So why would you have to stop sleeping with him? I’ve heard worse reasons for people becoming lovers.”

The American stared up at the masseuse, perplexed. Oddly enough, in his thoughts about Sakano it had never occurred to him that they could start something permanent. But why not? Hell, he’d been lonely lately since his divorce. Maybe they’d find that they were incompatible, but every couple had to find that out one way or another. He was getting ahead of himself here. Just because Sakano was gay didn’t mean that the producer was attracted to K in return. Hitting on him when he wasn’t interested was a sure fire way to break up both their friendship and their working relationship. The American knew he would have to find a subtle way to sound the producer out. The only problem with that, he thought as he lay his head back down on the table, was that he’d never been very good at subtle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K makes his move...

Sakano wondered what was bothering K. The American had been silent ever since they’d finished their massages and gotten dressed. Now they were in the elevator, returning to their room, and K was leaning back against the back wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was frowning a little and looked deep in thought. The producer kept giving the tall blonde sideways glances, trying to figure out what was on his mind.

He probably would have been very surprised to know that the thing on K’s mind was actually Sakano himself. K was trying to think of a way to approach the producer about starting a relationship, and he was frankly coming up dry. Part of the problem was that he’d known the other man for awhile now. The blonde couldn’t just flirt with his Japanese colleague as he would have a stranger he found attractive. K had never come up against a situation like this before. The American supposed that he could just be blunt, but what if Sakano turned him down? Then there’d be almost as much awkwardness between them as there would be if they had indulged in a one night stand together. What to do?

The elevator dinged, letting them off on their floor. Sakano walked just ahead of K, and the American was pulled out of his thoughts once again by the sight of the slim Japanese man's swaying hips. He’d never noticed before, but the producer moved with surprising grace. But that just made him wonder what Sakano would be like in bed, and the blonde groaned very softly to himself. He had to think of something soon, because spending almost two more weeks in Sakano’s company was going to be almost unbearable for him if he didn’t.

They reached their room and K unlocked the door. He followed Sakano inside as the producer walked over to the luggage that held his new clothing, as he wanted to take a shower and change into fresh clothes. K wandered over to grab some clean things of his own, his thoughts still in a muddle. As the blonde picked out a shirt to wear a chilling thought entered into his mind. It made him freeze, the shirt clutched in his hands, as a ferocious frown crossed over his face.

It hadn’t occurred to him before that Sakano might already have a boyfriend. After all, he hadn’t even known that the producer was gay up until about an hour ago. What else didn’t he know about the other man's love life? K's hands tightened in the fabric of the shirt as a low growl began to rise up in the back of his throat. If Sakano did have a boyfriend…he had a vision of an unknown man becoming intimately acquainted with his .44 Magnum. Jealousy rose up in a wave inside the American. His eyes narrowed as a snarl moved over his mouth.

Sakano happened to look up and saw K standing very still with his back to the producer. The blonde was holding a shirt in his hands, and there was tenseness to K’s shoulders that made a thread of both worry and uneasiness run through the Japanese man. “K-san?” he asked hesitantly.

K was broken out of his dark and bloody thoughts by Sakano’s soft question. He blinked as his brain started to work again. The blonde rolled his shoulders as he answered Sakano’s question. "Yeah?”

“Are you…all right?” 

“I’m fine” K replied shortly. Which was pretty far from the truth, he thought moodily, shaking his head. He decided to just ask Sakano outright whether he was with anybody, before he lost both his temper and his mind. “Sakano?”

“Hai, K-san?”

K turned so that he could look at Sakano’s face. "Uh, you said before on the beach that you’re gay. I was just wondering…did you not want to go out with that kid because you’re already with someone?”

Sakano was rather surprised by this question. K had such an odd look on his face… "Ie. I’m not with anyone” he said quietly, and something like relief flowed over K’s features and was gone.

K relaxed. So far so good! There was no boyfriend standing in his way. Now all he had to do was figure out if Sakano was attracted to him. But the American didn’t just want to ask Sakano about the matter point blank as he’d asked whether the producer was single or not. He decided to come at it from a slightly more oblique angle. “Hmm. So you don’t have a boyfriend. But is there anyone you’re interested in?”

Sakano felt a painful blush rising in his cheeks. “I…Hai” he said, trying to look anywhere but in those laser sharp dark blue eyes. “Anyone I know?” K asked hopefully.

The producer gasped as he felt sweat breaking out on his brow. This was a question that he just didn’t want to answer. What could he say, what could he say…Frantically Sakano tried to think, and finally he said cautiously. “Hai” and nothing else. He prayed that K would ask no more questions, but his prayers were not answered.

K watched the producer intently. Sakano looked nervous about something. “So who is it?” he finally asked bluntly, wanting to know. The producer turned rather pale, but he answered slowly “It’s someone I work with.”

The American felt like he’d been kicked in the gut by a mule. Someone Sakano worked with? Who? He began to think about everyone they worked with, and came up with the inevitable answer – Tohma. Of course it had to be Seguchi Tohma. For some reason the producer considered that nasty blonde piece of shit to be a god. The little rat bastard! K had never liked Tohma, but now he wanted nothing more than to take that skinny white neck in his hands and snap it like a toothpick. Images of those calculating blue eyes popping out of Tohma’s head as the American strangled him raced through K’s head as he literally saw red.

Sakano took a step backward at the look on K’s face. An expression of almost demonic rage had settled over the American’s features, and the blonde looked like he was contemplating homicide. The producer gulped, but he refused to obey his first instinct and run out of the room as fast as he could. “K-san?" He said waveringly, wondering if he was about to be murdered by the man he loved.

The fear in Sakano’s voice snapped K out of his black fury. He looked up to see the producer staring at him with wide fearful eyes, and he felt a flash of shame that he’d scared the other man because of his sudden uncontrolled jealousy. K did his best to conjure up a reassuring smile. “Sorry, Sakano” he said ruefully. “I just…” he put up a hand to run it through his hair. “I guess it bugs me, is all” he confessed sheepishly. "I don’t think that he’s good enough for you.”

Sakano stared at him in non-comprehension. “Who?” he asked in puzzlement. The American was surely not talking about himself…so who was he talking about?

“Tohma” spat K, acid dislike in his voice.

“Tohma?” repeated Sakano, his puzzlement deepening. “What are you talking about, K-san?”

K blinked. "You said that you were interested in someone you work with” he said. “I just assumed that it was Tohma.”

The producer looked surprised. K thought that he was interested in the Shacho? How peculiar. While he respected Seguchi Tohma, and feared him more than a little bit, the truth was that Sakano didn’t really like him. He was a good director, but as a human being the producer often thought that Tohma was a failure. He had no ability to understand the thoughts and feelings of others, and he was incredibly manipulative and controlling to boot. Sakano couldn’t even imagine having a crush on him. The thought actually made him shudder a little bit. “It’s not the Shacho” he told K quietly but sincerely.

K could see that he meant it. The blonde felt like cheering. Looks like he wouldn’t have to break Tohma in half after all. Although frankly he’d actually been looking forward to that. But if it wasn’t Tohma, who was it? The American thought about the other people that he and Sakano worked with. “Is it Hiro?” he asked, thinking about how kind and sweet the young guitarist was. Not to mention good looking. He could easily see the producer falling for someone like that.

Sakano shook his head. “He’s too young” he said. K frowned over that. He supposed that made sense – Hiro was a good six years younger than Sakano. The producer struck him as someone who’d like guys older than himself, not younger ones. That also eliminated Shuichi and Suguru, not that he’d ever seriously thought that it was either of them. Sakano wasn’t a cradle robber, and besides Shuichi was already taken by Yuki Eiri. Who did that leave?

He squinted in thought. Oh, good God. It couldn’t be – well, he WAS technically older than Sakano, not younger, and his sex appeal was undeniable. In fact, he was practically sex walking. But he was such a fluff brained idiot. Surely the producer didn’t have the hots for...Ryuichi? “Sakano” he said in a resigned tone of voice, “Please tell me it’s not Ryuichi.”

Sakano’s mouth dropped open. This was even weirder than K thinking that he was interested in the Shacho! He found himself speechless, but he didn’t have to say anything. The flabbergasted look on his face said it all. It wasn’t Ryuichi. But who did that leave? No one. No one at all, except – K felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. The only other male that Sakano worked with consistently was HIM. For Christ’s sake, did Sakano have the hots for him? And he’d never noticed? The American felt like an absolute fool. Usually he could read people better than that, but the truth was that he’d never paid enough attention to Sakano to see that the other man was gay, let alone that the producer might be interested in him. A wide grin broke out on the blonde's face as he realized fully that the lovely producer WAS interested in him. It was full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes, he thought as he said aloud: “Sakano – is it me?”

The producer felt like he was going to faint. While seeing K smiling was much better than the anger it had replaced, when the blonde spoke those words an icy finger went down his spine. Oh Gods! He swayed in place, feeling the edges of his vision go dark. “Sakano? Sakano!” K cried as the Japanese man turned white and his knees buckled. K darted forward and caught him as the producer passed out in a dead faint, cursing himself under his breath as he cradled Sakano’s slender form against his chest. :Dammit! Way to go, Claude!: He thought in disgust. :First you scare him, and then you shock him so bad he passes out. Why don’t you just kick him while he’s down?:

He picked Sakano up and carried the unconscious man over to his bed. K sat down on the edge, still holding the producer close, enjoying the feel of the man under his hands despite his worry. Sakano’s black head lolled against his chest. K gently slapped his cheek. 

“Come on now, Sakano” he said to the unconscious man in his arms. “Come on, baby. Wake up for me.”

Sakano moaned softly, his eyelids fluttering. Again K slapped him lightly, and was rewarded with the dark eyes slowly opening. The producer stared up at the worried American in dazed incomprehension for a moment, trying to remember where he was and what had happened. Suddenly his memory returned. He whimpered as he tried to jerk out of K’s arms, but the American tightened his grip possessively and wouldn’t let him get away. “Stop it” he said firmly to Sakano as the producer continued to struggle against his hold. “I’m not going to hurt you, Sakano. Just relax.”

But Sakano couldn’t relax. His terrible secret was out. K would hate him now, he was sure to. The agitated producer stopped struggling when he realized how useless it was, and a sob broke forth from his chest. He began to cry, his slender form shaking in K’s grip. The American felt his chest tighten when Sakano began to weep, and his stomach rolled. He just hated it when people he cared for cried. He began to rock the producer's slender form softly, trying to soothe the lovely man with his voice. “It’s all right, Sakano” he said almost pleadingly, hoping desperately to stop those tears. “It’s okay that you like me, really. I don’t mind. In fact, I’m glad.”

It took a bit of time for his words to register, but when they finally did Sakano stopped crying and lifted his head to stare up at K’s face with large, anxious dark eyes. “You…you are?” he said in a soft, disbelieving voice.

K stared down into those wet, pleading eyes and felt warmth spread through him in a tidal wave. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time that he'd met Judy. “Yeah” he replied gently. “I am. There’s something you don’t know about me, Sakano. Something important.”

Sakano blinked up at him, his brows furrowing. "What?” he whispered in a trembling voice.

K dipped his head until his mouth was nearly touching Sakano’s. The producer felt his breath huff out in a gasp as K said: “I’m bi-sexual, Sakano. And I want you so bad right now that it just isn’t funny.”

The producer's mind went blank in shock at his words. K chuckled breathily as those large dark eyes glazed over, and decided to push the Japanese man even further. He lowered his mouth the rest of the way and kissed Sakano’s sweet lips tenderly. The American moaned in the back of his throat at the taste, cupping the back of the producer's head to keep Sakano in place while he deepened the kiss. 

For Sakano, being kissed by K after such an astonishing revelation was almost too much for his brain to handle. K’s lips were warm and hard, moving over his with gentle intensity. The producer felt as though his brain were melting. This was nothing like what he’d imagined it would be. This was much, much better. Desire flared in him, and he could do nothing but make small, candy floss moans into K’s mouth as the kiss continued for what seemed like an eternity.

Something was prodding K in the back of his mind. Sakano was kissing him in return, true; but he was doing so with an untutored awkwardness that was making an astounding conclusion form in K’s hind brain. The blonde finally lifted his head, groaning a little at the sight of Sakano’s flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips. He wanted nothing more than to return to feasting on the producer's pretty mouth, but he had to know if he was right.

Sakano” he said urgently. “Sakano, listen to me. I have to know something.” The producer wasn’t really coherent, and it took him a few seconds to respond to K’s questioning. "Hai?” he finally said. “What is it, K-san?” he wished that the blonde would kiss him again, rather than ask him questions. Maybe if he answered this one, the American would return to that pleasurable activity…

K hesitated for a second. Then he said bluntly aloud what he suspected, but had trouble believing. “Sakano…are you a virgin?”

Sakano stiffened in his arms. A dark, painful blush spread across his face, and he closed his eyes in resignation as he replied to a question he really, REALLY wished that he didn’t have to answer. “hai” he said so softly that K could barely hear him.

Oh, Christ. K wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. :I’m way too old to be breaking in virgins:, he thought rather hysterically. But looking down at Sakano’s red, mortified face, he decided then and there that he’d make an exception in this case. No matter what it took, he’d make the lovely Japanese man's first time good for him... or his name wasn’t Claude Winchester.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakano loses his virginity to the man he loves

K bent his head over the man in his arms. “Sakano” he said gently. "It’s all right that you’re a virgin. It just took me by surprise, that’s all. I mean, you’re almost thirty.”

Sakano felt even more embarrassed by his words. He turned his head and tried to bury his face in K’s chest, blushing so red that it felt like his face might explode. The producer knew that it was ridiculous for a man of his age to still be a virgin; of course he knew that. “Gomen, K-san” he whispered against K’s skin, making the taller man shudder at the contact.

K realized that he’d fucked up again. Sakano was now ashamed of his virginal status. He sighed. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Sakano” he reassured the producer gently. “The only thing is – you being a virgin makes me nervous, is all.”

Sakano lifted his head to look up at K in puzzlement. “Nervous?” he repeated questioningly. 

K nodded. "Yeah. The truth is I’ve never been with a virgin before. I’m worried that I’ll screw it up. I want to make this good for you.”

The producer was enthralled by K’s words and the look in those dark blue eyes. There was a tenderness in their depths that he'd had never seen there before. The American was worried about him? That implied a level of caring far beyond mere lust. Sakano’s heart swelled with joy, and he thought rather wildly that he could just die now because if he did he’d die a happy man. The producer stirred against K’s chest and lifted his arms to curl them around the blonde's neck. He laid his head on the American's shoulder trustingly, and said very softly: “Whatever you do will be good, K-san” the absolute faith in his voice shook K to his core.

The American groaned a little as he curled one of his broad hands behind the back of Sakano’s neck once more. He tilted his head so that he could bend his own and kiss the producer once again. This time, knowing that he had no experience, K set out to tutor the producer in the fine art of kissing. He brought his tongue into play, tapping Sakano’s lips with it so that he opened his mouth in a small gasp of surprise. Instantly the blonde invaded the slender Japanese man's sweet mouth like a conqueror, plundering everything within. The producer made small whimpering sounds of pleasure in the back of his throat as K’s tongue stroked over his and laved the roof of his mouth boldly.

Sakano lost track of time and space as K taught him how to kiss. Eventually the American coaxed the producer's own tongue out to play, and they tangled together in a glorious duel that both of them won. Sakano was panting and breathless when K finally lifted his head once more. Dreamily he stared up at the blonde, his dark eyes soft and languid. K wanted nothing more than to just push him down on the bed and take him here and now. But Sakano was a virgin he reminded himself sternly. He had to take this slow and easy. No matter that his cock was yelling at him to just get down and dirty and forget the preliminaries altogether. He had more control than that, by God.

The American pushed the producer gently off of his lap. Sakano stared at him in dazed confusion, swaying a little. “K-san?” he said questioningly.

K got to his feet, trying to ignore the painful throbbing in his cock. He put a big hand to stroke possessively down Sakano’s arm. “I think you should take a shower, baby” he said. “I’ve got to go out. I should be back in about half an hour.”

Sakano gave him a blank look. K wanted to leave at a time like this? “W-where are you going?”

“I have to get something” K said huskily. "Believe me I don’t want to go. But it’s important. So take a shower, and I’ll be back” he bent his head to give Sakano a light kiss, and then gently pushed him in the direction of the bathroom. The producer hesitated, watching as K rummaged in his luggage and hurriedly pulled on some clothes over his swim trunks. 

The American turned to find Sakano still standing in the same spot. “Don’t look at me like that” he chided the producer. “I swear I’ll be back as fast as I can. I meant it” he said, walking over to Sakano and laying his big hand along his cheek, “when I said that I want you bad.” He gave the lovely Asian man one last soft kiss, making the producer shiver. Then he went out the door of the room as though a pack of hell hounds was at his heels.

After a moment Sakano wandered into the bathroom to take a shower. 90% of everything that he did was on auto-pilot, for his mind still hadn’t come down from outer space. Dimly he wondered why K had gone out, but mostly he was so out of it that he didn’t think of much at all as he laid his glasses on the sink, then stripped off his green t-shirt and swim trunks. The producer stepped under the warm spray, letting it run down his face and back as he stood stock still under the shower head. The reality of actually getting what he had wanted for so long was leaving poor Sakano rather befuddled. He still couldn’t really believe that K wanted him. Why would K want someone like him? He supposed he wouldn’t question a gift of the Gods, but he still felt bewildered by the happenings of the last hour.

He finished his shower and toweled himself down slowly. The the producer wrapped himself in one of the bathrobes that the hotel provided and wandered back out into the other room. Sakano sat down on his bed, staring blankly at nothing. He really wished that K hadn’t left; now he was starting to feel a little nervous, whereas before he would have simply gotten through without thinking about what was to come. He’d been so caught up in K’s kisses that he very much doubted that any thoughts at all would have intruded into his head. Now the producer was starting to think about the fact that this was his first time. Would it hurt? It was bound to. No one had ever looked at or touched his body intimately before this. That thought made him feel nervous and even a little afraid. What would it be like, when K finally touched him? An uneasy shiver, a combination of excitement and fear, went through him. The producer wished that K would return soon before he went crazy.

 

 

K himself came hurrying through the lobby of the hotel right at that moment. He patted the small bag in his pocket as he nearly ran toward the bank of elevators. The blonde's behavior was observed by the same clerk who’d originally checked him in. She saw the tall American streaking toward the elevators, and wondered what was going on this time. She could see that there was something in his pocket, something that he kept curling his hand over possessively. She wondered if it were drugs. The man was armed, after all. He was probably a drug runner. The clerk watched him dash into an elevator impatiently and shrugged her shoulders. What the guests did was none of her business as long as it didn’t involve the hotel.

K practically danced with impatience before the elevator reached his floor. He bolted out of it as soon as the doors opened, and hurried down the hallway to his room. The blonde pushed the door open, walking in eagerly to find Sakano sitting on the edge of his bed. The producer’s hair was damp and he was wearing a robe. K eyed that robe appreciatively, since it would be a lot easier to divest the other man of that article of clothing. "Hey” he said to Sakano, who looked up with an expression of relief on his face. 

“K-san” he breathed. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, told you I’d be as quick as I could” K replied.

“But…why did you go out?” Sakano asked hesitantly.

“I needed to get something” K replied, taking the bag out of his pocket and handing it to Sakano. The producer opened it curiously, putting in his hand to pull out the tube within.

K watched with delight as a deep blush ran up under Sakano’s skin as he read the side of the tube. The producer was just so cute when he blushed like that. For his part, Sakano felt terribly embarrassed as he looked at the tube. It was lubricant – strawberry flavored, edible, water soluble lubricant. “What?” he said waveringly, unable to meet K’s eyes.

K shrugged. “I didn’t want to use a substitute for your first time” he explained. He sat down next to Sakano on the bed, and put out a long arm to draw Sakano’s rather stiff body up against his side. 

The American nuzzled his nose into the damp hair at Sakano’s temple. “It’ll be all right” he said to the poor, nervous man. “Just trust me.”

Sakano did. He forced himself to relax a bit as K kissed his cheek softly. The American put up a hand and cupped the slender Japanese man's delicate jaw with long fingers, turning his head so that K could kiss him once more. The producer responded eagerly, wishing that they could just go on kissing forever. He wasn’t nervous about this part. Sakano loved K’s kisses. They were hot and deep and wonderful. He opened his mouth instinctively this time under the American's insistent lips. Shyly his tongue made a foray into K’s mouth, which the blonde not only allowed but encouraged.

While he was busy blowing Sakano’s mind again with the kiss, K used that as a distraction to let his hands begin to roam. The producer was only dimly aware that the bathrobe was being pushed off of his shoulders, or that K’s broad hands were beginning a leisurely wander down his bare back. For his part, the American loved the feel of the soft pale skin under his fingers. It felt like silk. He ran his broad hands down Sakano’s back until he reached the swell of the smaller man's buttocks. Then K started back north again, his hands stroking all of that lovely expanse of skin even as he deepened the kiss even further. He took Sakano’s soft moans into his mouth as he ran his hands over slender shoulders and then down slim, elegant arms. 

He lifted his head at last to let them both breathe. Sakano panted desperately for breath, only then beginning to dimly realize that the bathrobe had been pushed down off of his upper body. It pooled at his waist, baring him to K’s hungry eyes. The producer blushed faintly, but he was already too far gone to want to stop this no matter how embarrassed or nervous he might feel. K read his expression accurately and groaned softly in his throat as he splayed his big hands over Sakano’s chest. The blonde bent his head to begin to kiss the side of the producer's neck, even as he ran his thumbs down the smaller man's chest to softly flick two tiny pale pink nipples into erection. Sakano mewled in his throat at the duel sensation, tilting his neck to give K better access even as he arched his back a bit to get more of that pleasurable feeling.

The producer clutched at K’s long, beautiful blonde hair, his fingers buried in the silky mass, as the American ran his tongue down a long, elegant neck and then over a fragile collarbone. He gasped as K delicately nibbled at the slightly protruding bone, his head going back slightly. Abandoning the little pale pink nipples with his thumbs, K bent his head even further and closed his mouth over the left nipple instead. He sucked softly at it, making the producer cry out at the sensation. As he did this K let his hands slide over Sakano’s stomach. The muscles jumped wildly under his questing hands. The blonde bit very gently at the pink nub even as he pushed the bathrobe off of Sakano’s lap and bared his lower body.

Sakano cried out loudly when he felt K’s teeth close over his nipple. He was so lost in the sensation that he didn’t realize that he was now totally naked. The producer only became aware of this fact when one of the American's hands slid into his lap and closed over his erection. Sakano made a startled sound full of desire when that broad hand closed over him, and he arched his lower back in a begging gesture as K gave him one leisurely stroke from root to tip. “K-san!" he cried, his fingers tightening painfully in the golden locks.

K put a hand on his chest and gently urged him backward. Sakano found himself lying on his back on the bed, looking up at the American as K bent over him. The blue-purple eyes met his, and in their depths was both lust and caring in equal measures. It stole his breath to see that second emotion reflected in K’s eyes. The blonde bent his head and began to kiss the producer's slim chest, butterfly kisses that the other man seemed to feel in every part of himself. The American began to travel lower, sliding his tongue down the producer’s stomach with delicate precision. Sakano’s hips jerked up desperately as K reached his lower stomach, and he gasped and panted wildly as K rolled his eyes up to look at the lovely Asian man's face even as he moved just that little bit farther down and took Sakano into his mouth.

“Ahhh!” Sakano’s scream of pleasure was loud in the still room. Frantically he pushed his hips up at K as the American engulfed his erection with his hot, wet mouth. The producer couldn’t believe that this was happening. It felt so good! K’s tongue swirled around the length of him and then ran over the sensitive tip. He felt like he was going to explode at any second. Sensing this, K began to stroke Sakano’s balls in time with his insistent sucking. The producer shattered under his hands and his mouth. Sakano came into that welcoming orifice, feeling K swallow as the nearly unbearable pleasure of his first ever assisted orgasm raced through him like lightning.

K lifted his head. Sakano had slumped back against the bedspread, all strength having deserted him. His eyes were closed, his gorgeous face was stained with red, and his breath panted swiftly out of his chest. The producer looked beautiful and sexy this way, and K felt a streak of possessive pride run through him. The American sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, pitching it away impatiently. Then he stood up and removed his slacks as well, glad to get them off. He was so hard under them that it was painful. Then he sat down and leaned over the man lying on the bed again.

“Sakano” he said, even as he began to place feather light kisses along the delicate jaw. The producer moaned breathily at the feel of K’s lips on his sensitized skin. 

“So sweet” K said as he began to lick the sweat off of the beautiful pale skin. Slowly he kissed his way back down Sakano’s body, while the producer moaned in a supplicating manner as his body was stirred back to life. Bypassing his reawakening cock, the American instead began to kiss his way down the long, slim legs that he’d admired not long ago. Drinking in the soft cries he drew from Sakano’s throat, the blonde finally reached one of those small, pretty feet. He licked the skin of the arch, running his tongue over the anklebone. 

Sakano was mindless. He was nothing but a mass of sensations as K’s strong hands grasped him and turned him over on the bedspread. He cried out deliriously as his now erect cock was pressed into the spread as K began to move up the backs of his legs. The producer's head went back as the American reached his small, tight buttocks. K began to kiss the tender skin of each cheek, caressing the firm globes with his big, broad hands. 

One of K’s hands shot sideways and grabbed the discarded tube of lubricant. He opened it even as he continued to caress Sakano’s tight little ass lovingly. Squirting some of the lube onto his fingers, he used his other hand to spread open the pale cheeks. Sakano gave a quiet, puzzled cry as he felt something cool and slick being spread over the tender puckered skin of his anus. K’s rough calloused fingertips caressed that tiny sensitive orifice, and Sakano’s cries became louder at the sensation. 

Then he screamed, loudly and wildly, as K bent his head and ran his tongue over the surface that he’d just lubed up. He rimmed Sakano with tender ferocity while the producer writhed and screamed in pleasure. He just couldn’t believe this. It was too good, he was going to die from it, he just knew it…And then K’s tongue sank into him, and whatever thoughts he had left in his head fled entirely. The Asian man became nothing but pleasure, a quivering mass of nerves, as K fucked him with that skilled tongue. The producer jerked so wildly that K had to use his big hands to hold Sakano in place as he continued his assault on the lovely man for what seemed like forever.

When K finally withdrew his tongue Sakano was a limp mass on the bed. The producer only moaned breathily as K turned him over once again. The American put his hands on slender hips and drew Sakano to the edge of the bed. He smiled down at the sight of those big black eyes, glazed with pleasure and half lidded. The blonde couldn’t wait to get inside of him. K lifted those long legs and wrapped them around his waist. Then he lubed up his fingers some more, and reached down to probe at that tight entrance with one of his fingertips.

His finger slid in easily. Sakano had been relaxed by his first orgasm and K’s tongue bath, and he only moaned as K’s finger pushed into him. This moan was not a sound of pain. K began to move his finger in and out of that hot, tight space, watching Sakano’s face as he did so. The blonde enjoying every panting breath and every expression of pleasure that crossed the smaller man's features. He added a second finger and began to scissor them to open the producer up. Sakano grimaced when he added a third finger, but the discomfort soon ebbed. All he could feel now was the strange pleasure of K’s fingers moving within him.

K could take no more. He’d gone as slow as he possibly could, and he’d given Sakano as much foreplay as possible. But he was so worked up himself from what he’d been doing to the producer that he knew he couldn’t last much longer. The blonde removed his fingers and lubed up his cock thoroughly, groaning at the feel of his own hand on his erection. Then he lifted Sakano’s hips with a feeling of relief, so ready that he felt like he might explode if he couldn't get inside the tight little body under his hands. Taking himself in hand, K began to probe at the tight entrance into the producer's body with the tip of his cock.

“Sakano” he gasped. The dazed black eyes blinked up at him as he began to push inside of the producer. A grimace of pain twisted Sakano’s features, and K stopped moving for a moment. He knew he was large, and the sweet little Japanese man was so small and tight…his lips drew back from his teeth at the feel of those internal muscles closing around him. Go slowly, slowly… Don’t slam into him, no matter how much you’d like to…K worked another inch of himself inside of the producer, and Sakano gave a pained gasp as he was stretched mercilessly. 

K stopped again. He stood still between Sakano’s legs, his hands gently stroking the producer’s thighs and stomach. “Relax, baby” he rasped to the panting man. “Let me in”

Sakano did his best to follow that command. It was hard; K was so thick, and this intrusion into his body was so strange. There was little active pain, but he felt a burning sensation as that fullness invaded him relentlessly. The producer cried out breathlessly as K worked even more of himself into that tight space. Beyond the strangeness, and the pain, it felt very, very good. The knowledge that it was K, the man he loved, who was doing this to him made Sakano yearn desperately to experience even more of this sensation.

K finally worked himself fully inside of his lover. He waited for Sakano to adjust, bending at the waist to lay himself over the producer's chest so that the blonde could kiss his new lover softly on the mouth. Sakano whimpered into his mouth, a sound of combined pleasure and pain. Slender fingers buried themselves once again in the American's glorious hair as their mouths ate at each other. Finally K lifted his head a bit so that he could look Sakano in the eyes. 

"Are you ready, baby?” K asked him tenderly. Sakano nodded silently. The pain had finally almost disappeared, and he could feel his muscles relaxing around K’s erection.

K smiled down at him as he pulled out a tiny fraction and then pushed back in. Sakano cried out at the feel, the sound almost lost as K lowered his head and began to kiss his lover again. Slowly but surely the blonde began to thrust into Sakano. The pain finally disappeared altogether, and the producer felt nothing but the pleasure of the friction being caused by K’s steady thrusts. The American's lightly hairy broad chest rubbed against his, their sweat slicked skin sliding together. K drank in his cries as the blonde continued to kiss the producer, the pace of his thrusting picking up as he began to stroke into Sakano faster and harder. 

Sakano screamed against K’s lips as the tip of the American's cock struck something deep inside of him. An explosion of pleasure went off behind his eyelids, and he bucked his hips up frantically. Over and over again K’s erection ran over that place, and sensation ratcheted up in Sakano until he felt as though he were going to come apart at any moment. The producer was so close, so close…K could tell by his partner’s straining muscles that he was going to come. The American's own orgasm was building up in him like a tidal wave, and he groaned into Sakano’s sweet mouth as he drove into his new lover's body savagely. He gave one last hard thrust, and the lovely man came apart under him. Sakano screamed his name in an agony pf pleasure as he came, semen spurting out onto both of their stomachs as his back arched off the bed at the intensity of his orgasm. K shuddered in the throes of his own coming, feeling as though his seed were being dragged from his body by Sakano’s tight, clenching internal muscles. 

K tried hard not to collapse on top of the limp, spent man lying under him. He panted furiously, his chest heaving, coming down from the bliss of the best orgasm that he’d ever experienced. “Ohh, baby” he groaned. God that had been good. Muzzily he looked down at Sakano’s face, at the closed eyes and open mouth. He was so beautiful in the aftermath. K knew that he would never get enough of the sight of Sakano like this. But then he thought as he bent his head and nuzzled his nose into the still damp black hair, he didn’t have to, did he? He could spend the rest of his life drawing that expression out of his lover. 

He pulled out of Sakano at last to the accompaniment of a soft moan from the producer. Laying himself down on the bed beside his lover, he gathered Sakano in his arms and pulled the producer's back up against his chest. “Are you okay, baby?” he asked Sakano gently.

Sakano felt pulped and drained and immensely sated. He rested back against K’s big body as his mind returned from the high. He nodded weakly, thinking to himself that he’d never, ever been as okay as he was right at this moment. K’s arms were around him, the blonde's breath shivered the skin behind his ear, and he could feel the hot skin of the American's chest resting against his back. The producer's eyes fluttered closed as a feeling of utter contentment went through him. Just before he fell asleep, he murmured a single phrase. “I love you” he said, and then sleep claimed him in her arms as surely as K had.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K and Sakano return from their vacation a happy couple. K finally found the best way to get Sakano to relax...

K looked down on the sleeping man curled up in his arms. He was amazed by Sakano’s softly spoken admission – although he highly doubted that the producer was aware that he’d spoken aloud. Those words went straight to both his gut and his heart. :He loves me?: The American tightened his hold on the slender form in his arms, smiling a little to himself. His feelings for Sakano were too new to be classified as love yet. But given time…and he intended to have that time. Sakano was his now. 

He lowered his head and laid a gentle kiss on the top of the black head resting against his shoulder. “Sleep now, baby” he whispered. “Because I don’t think that you’re going to get much rest during this vacation. Not if I can help it.”

 

 

“Uhn! K-san!” Sakano cried desperately. His fingers scrabbled at the tile of the shower wall. His back arched as K thrust into him again from behind.

K tightened his grip on Sakano’s slim hips as he drove into slender form again and again. The American could feel his orgasm gathering in his stomach and groin. He leaned forward and began to lick down the length of Sakano’s spine with his tongue. The producer writhed under him, the slim man's head going back in an agony of pleasure. K slid a hand under his lover's belly and grasped his cock, stroking the producer to help him along. “Come for me, baby” the blonde said through gritted teeth as he stroked into Sakano’s slender body hard and fast.

Sakano came with a loud cry as K’s broad hand coaxed his orgasm from him. The blonde drove into the shuddering body under him twice more before the American came to his own end, groaning out Sakano’s name in ecstasy. The producer wilted against the wall of the shower, panting wildly for breath in the aftermath. K leaned forward and put his own hands on the wall on either side of his lover's head, staying still with his half erect cock still buried in the soft body under him. “God” he moaned, his eyes closed as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through his system.

The producer made a small sound of contentment in the back of his throat. He was rapidly coming to adore making love in the shower, with the warm water pounding down on the two of them as they coupled. Sakano could have stood where he was forever, despite the fact that his legs were trembling a bit. The feel of K, on him and in him, was so good that it was nearly overwhelming.

He sighed. Tomorrow their vacation ended. Sakano never would have thought that he would regret having to go back to work, but then he’d never in a million years have believed that he’d be together with K either. Contrary to what he’d imagined, the producer hadn’t been the least bit bored during this interlude. The American had made sure that they always had plenty to do. Of course, just about all of his activities involved them being naked…

K stirred against his back. He pulled out of Sakano at last, making the producer moan a soft sound of disappointment. The blonde straightened up and scooped a surprised Sakano into his strong arms, carrying him out of the shower and into the bedroom with ease. He sat down on the edge of the Japanese man's bed, cradling the producer tenderly as he laid his face against the top of the damp black head. Sakano closed his eyes and rested his cheek against K’s hard chest, listening to the sound of his breathing.

K, too, was feeling rather morose about returning to the real world. He could honestly say that this had been the best damn vacation he’d ever had. It wasn’t just the fact that he and Sakano had been having fabulous sex together; although that was definitely a part of it that was for sure. But getting to know the man he now held in his arms better had been just as big a part of his enjoyment. The American remembered that saying about the quiet ones when he considered the things he’d learned about Sakano in the last two weeks.

The producer had a quiet but impish sense of humor, a surprising understanding of human nature, and a knack of being able to read people at a glance. He was intelligent and insightful, and he often amazed K by his observations. The things he’d said about Seguchi Tohma, the man K had thought that he worshipped, astonished the American. Sakano understood Tohma’s personality and motivations; and K had come to understand that while he respected the Shacho, the producer didn’t really like him. Not something the blonde would ever have believed before. The more he came to know about Sakano, the more he wanted to know. K was looking forward to spending the rest of his life learning new things about his lover. 

Part of Sakano’s draw for him was the mystery of the other man's personality. The Japanese mindset was so different from K’s own American sensibilities that they might as well be coming from two separate planets. But that was a good. One of the things that had always drawn K to women was the fact that they were so different than men. Men he could understand. They were simple. But women were an endless fascinating puzzle, their thoughts and feelings so alien and interesting that a man could spend his whole life trying to understand them. In this way Sakano was a bit like a woman. K doubted that he’d ever solve the mystery about the way the producer’s mind worked. Which was great, because he’d never be bored.

“K-san?” Sakano said softly.

“Yeah?”

“What happens tomorrow?” the producer asked tentatively.

K grinned internally to himself. He hadn’t said anything as yet about continuing their relationship past this blissful interlude. He knew that his lover had to be wondering; and, considering his anxious nature, worrying a bit as well. “Well, we get on a plane and go home” he replied calmly, trying not to laugh when Sakano made a somewhat impatient sound in his throat.

“I mean after that” Sakano said.

“Oh” K leaned over to snag his wallet from the nightstand even as he said: “Well, I was thinking that I’ll just have to break into your apartment again” he opened the wallet and extracted an item from within it as Sakano craned himself around to peer up at his lover in puzzlement. 

“Why would you want to do that?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

“To pick up some stuff for my place” K replied with a wink. He held out the thing from his wallet to Sakano. The producer stared down at the item. It was a key. The smaller man felt his stomach clench a little in nervous excitement. “What’s this?” he asked, although he thought he knew.

K grinned. "I’d like to say that it’s the key to my heart” he said, fluttering his lashes in a most absurd way. “But will the key to my apartment do instead?”

Sakano’s breath left him in a rush. His dark eyes widened as he stared at the key cradled in K’s broad palm. “You’re giving me a key to your apartment?" He whispered in shock.

K nodded. "Of course. If you’re going to move in with me, don’t you think that you should be able to get in the place? I’d hate for you to have to stand in the hall until I came home to let you in every night.”

The producer gasped. K wanted him to move in? Sakano felt nearly dizzy at the surge of joy and wonder and astonishment that coursed through him. “Are you sure, K-san?” he choked.

“As sure as I am of my own name. So what do you say? Would you mind having a room mate, baby?”

Sakano turned and threw his arms around K’s neck, burying his face in the other man's chest. The American felt the extra dampness of tears against his skin. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ ” he said happily as he cupped his hand around the back of Sakano’s head in a proprietary manner.

 

 

A strange sight greeted the passengers moving through the Tokyo airport concourse. Many people stopped to gape at the sight of the members of the popular JPop group Bad Luck waiting beside one of the gates. Standing with them was Sakuma Ryuichi, with his Kumagoro perched atop his head. He was talking to his band mate Seguchi Tohma while making large arm gestures. The blonde executive was rolling his eyes over one of Ryuichi’s wilder statements.

Shuichi was nearly jumping up and down in his excitement. He couldn’t wait to see both K and Sakano again. Amazingly enough, he’d found that he missed both the gun wielding crazy American and the anxious whirlwind of a producer far more than he would have ever imagined possible. Tohma was a terrible replacement for their manager and producer, and the last two weeks had been hellish. He fastened his large violet eyes on the gate, willing the plane to disembark its passengers. Hiro smiled at his friend’s wild excitement. The guitarist felt a more subdued version of it, for he hadn’t cared for life under Tohma any more than Shuichi had. He was just less vocal in his complaints.

“Here they come!” caroled the singer, pointing to the stream of passengers just beginning to trickle through the gate toward them. “Do you see them?” he asked Hiro, craning his neck hopefully.

The guitarist shook his head. Suguru suddenly pointed his finger and said “There’s K.”

Shuichi turned to follow his finger eagerly. Indeed it was the tall blonde American, strolling along with a carry on bag thrown over his shoulder casually. “K!” screamed the pink haired singer, making Suguru roll his eyes and wish he hadn’t said anything.

“Where’s Sakano?” Shuichi asked, dancing in place and trying to see more over the heads of the other passengers.

Hiro’s eyes widened as he looked at the man walking beside K’s tall figure. Surely that wasn’t… “Sakano?” He said aloud, and Shuichi heard him and followed his startled stare. Large amethyst eyes got even bigger as he gaped at the approaching form of their producer.

The man was almost unrecognizable. For one thing, he wasn’t wearing his inevitable suit. Instead he wore a casual long sleeved shirt in a lovely shade of green, tucked into tan slacks, and the producer wore running shoes on his feet instead of his perpetual loafers. But the most shocking thing of all was the absence of his glasses. Sakano's face looked quite different without them. But then it looked different already, younger and more relaxed than any of them had ever seen it look before. Shuichi realized in amazement that their producer was actually quite handsome, a fact that had never come to his attention before.

K grinned slyly when he saw the members of Bad Luck waiting for them. The look on Shuichi’s face as he stared at Sakano was priceless. The kid looked as though he’d swallowed a bug. “Hello, all” he greeted them casually as he and the producer approached them. 

“K-san” Shuichi said, still peering at Sakano uncertainly. The producer blushed faintly under his perusal. “Wow, Sakano, you sure look different!" Shuichi blurted. “What happened to your glasses?”

Sakano cast a glance up at his lover, his blush deepening a little as K smiled at him. “I’m wearing contacts” he explained shyly to Shuichi. He didn’t add that he’d gotten them at K’s request. How could he not honor that request, when the American had said: “I love your eyes, baby. They’re beautiful. I’d like to be able to see them clearly, without those glasses in the way. So what do you say to getting contacts?” Especially when it had nearly turned him to mush. Sakano would have done a lot more than just get contacts for such a statement from his lover.

“Awesome” Shuichi said with a bounce. “So did you have fun on your vacation?” 

Sakano blushed even more deeply as he replied: “Hai. Most definitely.” He heard K laugh softly beside him, and he wanted to elbow his lover in the ribs for making him feel even more embarrassed.

Tohma looked from K to Sakano, frowning a little. There was something about their body language…when he realized what it was, his blue eyes widened a little. No way! It wasn’t possible, was it? But it was unmistakable…Good Gods, that was something he would never have foreseen coming out of this little forced vacation! He felt K’s eyes settle on him, and the executive saw the warning in them clear as day. If he tried to make a fuss about this in any way he’d live to regret it. For a very short time. He gave a single nod to acknowledge K’s warning, and the American looked away. Tohma shivered discretely. 

Hiro was talking to Sakano about their trip as the group moved away from the gate. Shuichi was bouncing along like a rubber ball beside them, much to Suguru’s annoyance. Ryuichi was pattering along beside K, talking to the American while he beamed at his former manager. Tohma discretely trailed along behind them, keeping his distance from K. They went through the doors of the airport and headed for the chauffeur driven cars that Tohma had waiting for them.

There was some argument about who was going to ride with whom. In the end, Hiro and Shuichi went with K and Sakano, while Tohma rode with Ryuichi and his cousin in the other car. Shuichi scrambled into the back and jumped happily on the seat as Hiro sat next to him. K and Sakano took the other seat across from the two of them. The American gave the driver his address and the car slid into traffic. “Shouldn’t we drop Sakano-san off first?” Shuichi asked K. “His apartment is closer than yours.”

Sakano glanced sideways at K. The American gave Shuichi a bland look in return. 

“No.” he said calmly. “We don’t need to do that.”

The singer cocked his head sideways like a bird. "Why not?” he asked.

K smiled as he put out an arm and slung it around Sakano’s shoulders. “Because he’s moving in with me” he explained as the producer blushed again in shy happiness.

Shuichi’s jaw literally hit the floor of the car. Hiro lifted his brows as he stared at the two men, but his dark eyes began to smile. The little singer stared wildly from K to Sakano and then back again. “You mean you two are…together?!” he said in disbelief.

K nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. You have a problem with that, kid?”

The pink haired singer shook his head vehemently. “No, no. But I thought you were straight, K-san.”

The American lifted an eyebrow at this statement. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you straight until you hooked up with Yuki Eiri?” he pointed out.

Shuichi had the grace to flush a little. “Yeah” he agreed. He looked at Sakano’s face, seeing the producer's dark eyes shining with happiness. “So you two are together” he repeated, speaking to Sakano. 

The producer nodded. “Hai” he said, his hand reaching up to touch K’s where it rested on his shoulder.

The little singer thought that this was one of the cutest gestures that he’d ever seen. “That is SO cool” he said cheerfully.

Sakano looked up into the face of his lover, seeing the dark blue eyes gazing back at him with love in their depths. “Yes” he agreed very softly, “Yes, it is.”

 

The End


End file.
